


Homecoming

by marmorasblade (blackeyedqueen)



Series: Nostos [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Child Abuse, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jock shiro, Keith has bad parents i'm so sorry., M/M, Slow Burn, Underage Smoking, foster kid Keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-07-04 10:12:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15839136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackeyedqueen/pseuds/marmorasblade
Summary: Not to be dramatic, but as far as Keith is concerned, his life is shitty enough without having to add high school into the mix.It's halfway through Keith's freshman year. He's in a new foster home, one of many over the last ten years, and he has no delusions that this will last longer than the others. He tries to keep himself distant; from his aunt, who came out of the woodwork to take him in, from his classmates, who keep insisting he join them for things like lunch and movie nights, and from the handsome older jock that just keeps popping up around every turn he takes. But of course, these people try to embed themselves in his life anyway. Keith's trying to come to terms with the fact that these people care for him. He's trying to come to terms with the realization that he may finally have a home.





	1. I.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Here is my entry for Sheith Big Bang 2018, a prequel to last year's work, Nostos. It's not necessary to read that one to understand this one, but I do think they go together niceley. 
> 
> Huge shoutout to Clari for the beautiful artwork for this bang! Such an amazing partner :D. Please be sure to [retweet](https://twitter.com/brighteststarus/status/1034982311991934976) and/or [reblog](https://brighteststarus.tumblr.com/post/177537179625/i-worked-with-the-wonderful-fakegenjimain-for-the) :)
> 
> And a big thanks to Tane for beta-ing this fic for me last minute! <3
> 
> A few disclaimers before starting this:  
> 1) There's a lot of Keith angst here.  
> 2) There's also a lot of over-dramatized portrayals of being in the foster system that may not be accurate.  
> 3) Also, when I say slow burn I mean a sloooooow buuuuurn.  
> 4) I had all of this in mind before we met Keith's parents, and I truly feel so awful trying to call them Krolia and... Tex (?) in this fic, so I made Keith's biological parents OC's instead.  
> 5) Please heed the tags! There is some referenced child abuse, and there is a scene depicting child abuse in later chapters. Please read at your own risk!
> 
> That being said, I hope you all enjoy the fic!

Not to be dramatic, but as far as Keith is concerned, his life is shitty enough without having to add high school into the mix. And that’s just high school in general, not including the added bullshit of being the new kid. Constantly.

 

Keith’s been living that cliched foster home life for the past ten years. He’d been bouncing from home to home, more often than not staying with neglectful or downright awful foster parents who are just looking for that government cash. Also there were a few stints in the state run group homes which pretty much always lacked a lot to be desired.

 

You would think with his most recent and most abusive stint in foster care to date, Keith would be glad to be placed in the care of a family member. Frankly, Keith’s only response is,  _What took you so long?_

 

Ten years in the bullshit foster care system, counting down the days til his 18th birthday and now that he only had two years left, some woman wants to come in and save him? Bullshit. Where was she before?

 

The answer to that question is, apparently, estranged. The woman is Keith’s mom’s sister. So, his aunt, legally. Deep down, Keith doesn’t really blame anyone who cut ties with either of his parents, but he’s still got bruises on his arms from his last home. So, he’s a still pretty pissed that she hasn’t bothered to come around before.

 

Her name is Liv, which Keith is sure is short for something weird. He can’t bring himself to appreciate anything about her overall positive demeanor or her desperation to try to do things right by him. Keith would rather stew in his room and angst than have her knocking on the door and checking on him and asking what he wants for dinner.

 

Keith knows how ridiculous it sounds to have spent the majority of his life wishing someone would give a shit and then turning his back on the first person who does. But he’d also spent the majority of his life believing that his only family members were his deadbeat useless parents and that anyone else that might exist in their fucked up gene pool couldn’t be bothered to give a shit either.

 

He’s known other kids in the system that are there for a few weeks or a few months, and then their aunts or uncles or grandparents save them. No one waited years, or at least, not as many as Keith has. And as the years went on and Keith saw more and more reunions from the sidelines, he was positive that no one would ever save him but himself.

 

But enough of that pity party. This is about the high school teen angst bullshit that Keith feels like he should be exempt from dealing with.

 

Keith has a love hate relationship with school. He doesn’t mind the actual act of learning and preparing himself for a better future; in fact, he tries as hard as possible to maintain an honor roll status at any school he goes to. It was a habit drilled into him over years of going to multiple schools within a single school year and always having to play catch up with different curriculums. He’d come in halfway through the year and have to work his ass off to be on the same page as his new classmates. He learned to study and cram and come out on par or ahead in junior high, inspired by a particularly bad year at the end of his elementary school career where he had to repeat a grade. (And add that to the list of things Keith hates about school: the fact that he has to do an extra year). So Keith is a studier, an overachiever, and he works hard and gets good grades so he can get a diploma and enroll into college, hopefully a piloting or aerospace academy.

 

So Keith has no real problem with the education aspect of school. No, his biggest gripe is with the people.

 

Every school has the same people. The popular kids, the nerds, the weirdos, the jocks, the assholes, the unfortunate. There are teachers that care too much, and the teachers that don’t care enough. Keith would come into a new school and try to find a spot to belong, to find maybe a friend as a bit of solace in the whirlwind that had become his life. But then he’d find himself moving again and having to start the process over. At a certain point it wasn’t worth it to try anymore.

 

During his time in his last three homes, he remained alone and isolated, with no friends to share emotional goodbyes with. It was a clean cut from each of them. This time, he intends it to be the same, should something happen with his aunt. Which he’s sure something will. She’s going to realize at some point that living with a teenager is too much to handle, that no matter how hard she tries he’s not going to warm up to her, or she could lose her job and no longer be able to support him, or she could fall in love with a guy that wants nothing to do with a foster kid’s emotional baggage. Anything could happen, despite how hopeful Liv seems now. So Keith decides to remain alone at all costs. He’s had messy moves before. He’s made friends that have meant a lot to him, there have been foster parents that have been good and said they loved him; things don’t always work out and it remains in his best interest to stay as unattached as possible.

 

Liv is too nice, really. She drives him to school every morning on her way to work and offers him a cheery “Bye, have a nice day!” Even when he doesn’t respond, which he usually doesn’t, she still wishes him well. It makes him roll his eyes, ready for her to drop the act. She’s only doing this for the money. If she’s from the same gene pool as his mother, he wouldn’t put it past her.

 

This morning, like every other, she wishes him well, and all he does is grunt as he slams the door and walks up to the building. The morning air is frosty, the crisp smell settling in his nose. It’s a welcome fresh smell before he enters the halls of too much cologne or not enough, of teen B.O. and morning breath. Why don’t teenagers know how to fucking bathe properly? Keith, with his long messy hair and limited amount of clothes, may look like a greaseball who never changes his clothes, but he makes sure his laundry is always done, if possible, and he showers every night before bed. Or at least, he tries to, depending on where he’s living. Liv hasn’t had a problem with it so far.

 

Homeroom drags on. A lot of kids do last minute homework or socialize, but Keith’s actually been able to do his work at home, and he has no friends. So instead he watches the morning announcements on the old mounted TV with faux rapt attention; better to be too interested in the school news than stare at a blank white board. Sometimes he doodles shapes in the margins of his notes. What he could _really_ go for right now is a cigarette, but this school has smoke alarms in the bathrooms, and there are cameras in the halls that would catch him leaving the building which would get him in trouble. He doesn’t find much time to smoke these days, between living with Liv, who doesn’t allow it (or, he thinks she doesn’t, he hasn’t wanted to risk anything yet), and this school somehow having just enough blocks in place to keep him from pushing his luck.

 

So he feigns interest in the news, grimaces at the lunch planned for the day, and tunes out the sport ball scores while staring blankly at the screen. When that’s over, he has no choice but to open up a notebook and read something. Maybe later on he’ll go to the library and find a book to check out to keep him occupied during these mind numbing fifteen minutes before his first period starts.

 

Then, he goes to history and throws himself into listening to the lecture and taking notes. Then, he has college algebra where he makes sure his homework problems are all correct and he takes extra thorough notes because the math is starting to get complicated and he wants to stay on top of it. He’s only been at this school a week, but he’s already worried he’ll fall behind. All the more reason to let school consume his life, should Liv ask him if he’s making any friends. Who has time for friends when you’ve already missed almost three weeks of school, between the time he spent in the hospital because of his last foster father, and the time it took to relocate to his aunt’s. (He wasn’t in the hospital for anything too serious, a few broken ribs and some stitches, really, but he was also slightly dehydrated and malnourished. That’s where Liv first came into his life; visiting him in the hospital, while he was sick and in pain, and she said to him _I’m your aunt_ … It really pissed him off, honestly).

 

Third period is chemistry. He’s one of four freshmen in the class, which at this school must be a class usually taken by sophomores. The seating arrangements are two to a table, and Keith has claimed his spot in the back of the room that generally only gets stragglers that sit next to him. In most classes, teachers give assigned seats, but this guy is pretty cool about it, saying he only hands them out if the class gets too disruptive. Generally, it doesn’t matter who sits next to him; he pays them no mind, completely tuned into the lecture and taking his notes. Today is slightly different, though. It apparently matters who you sit next to today, because there’s a petite girl with big glasses and a big puffy ponytail absolutely _whining_ that “someone took her seat.”

 

“Lance, are you kidding me, we’re halfway through the year and I _always_ sit with Hunk!”

 

The boy she’s yelling at, Lance, leans back in his chair and smirks. “Well, you snooze, you lose, Pidgeon. It’s lab day, and if I do poorly on another lab, I’m gonna have a C. And you know my mom loses it if I have anything lower than a B. So Hunk is _my man_ today.”

 

“It’s not my fault you don’t do well on your labs! And it isn’t Hunk’s either. If you’d just _pay attention_ like you’re supposed to--”

 

“Hey, I do pay attention! But this stuff gets hard, okay? Yeesh, you’ll be fine with anyone you get paired with. Come on, Pidge just this once,” Lance pleads with the girl, apparently Pidge.

 

The guy who must be Hunk just kind of shrugs as Pidge turns her glare on him.

 

So, it’s a lab day, which apparently means you have to work with whoever you sit next to. And that’s just _great_ , because by the time the girl is done huffing and looks around at the classroom, the seat next to him is the only one left and the class is about to start.

 

The teacher, Mr. Iverson, walks in. “Katie, please take a seat, it’s time to get started. No time to waste today. It’s…” He turns around and underlines the words “LAB DAY” written on the board, for emphasis, before repeating them for the class.

 

Katie… Pidge?... Trudges over to the last available seat next to Keith.

Keith hates group projects. And more often than not, he has to carry a lot of the workload in these projects, because his partners recognize his overachiever attitude and know that he’ll do what it takes to get a good grade. He’s not exactly worried about it with this girl. He knows she’s smart and works hard. She answers a lot of the questions the teacher has, always has assignments done, and he’s seen her help explain things to the other classmates. He doesn’t think she’ll be shirking responsibility off on him. It’s just the mere act of _socializing_ he doesn’t want to deal with. Sure, he knew he’d have to at some point. But he just… Just thought it would be later down the road. And it doesn’t help that the girl seems to be bristling next to him; refusing to make eye contact, hyperfocusing on her notes and what the teacher is saying, probably thinking Keith is some dumb deadbeat who doesn’t know his way around a beaker or a bunsen burner. He doesn’t really blame her, knowing that he looks like a trouble maker, and it doesn’t help that he himself has the friendly disposition of a cactus, but he doesn’t like being judged. He works harder than 90% of his classmates so he can make something out of this shitty life he’s been given, and he doesn’t like people just _assuming_ that he’s lazy and stupid. But whatever, as soon as they start the project, he’ll prove her wrong and she’ll be sorry for judging him.

 

Keith tries to shake off his attitude as the teacher starts handing out their instruction packet, and the question and answer sheet they’ll have to turn in with their lab report. He and Pidge get out of their seats to get their aprons, gloves, and goggles, still cautious and wary of each other; Pidge on edge because Keith seems like the type to leave her to do all the work, and Keith on edge because he knows what Pidge is thinking.

 

They get back to their seats and read over the directions silently while Mr. Iverson passes out the needed materials for the experiment. It’s some kind of flame experiment.

 

The girl, Pidge, reaches for the first material, some kind of salt, and starts mixing it with distilled water in a beaker. Keith reaches over and starts doing the same with a different type of salt. Pidge looks over at him in an almost surprised way, but then she turns back to her solution and continues stirring. A few minutes of tense silence later, and they’ve got six solution with wooden stick applicators soaking in them, which they are to leave soaking for a few minutes to get the applicators saturated a bit. Pidge makes a move for the striker to light the Bunsen burner, and Keith fights not to roll his eyes at the fact that she’s taken over this lab with 0 communication with him.

 

This particular striker must be quite tough to light, and Pidge’s small hands probably don’t help anything, and in the end she is left struggling to light the burner.

 

Keith lifts his eyebrows slightly, then leans over and reaches out his hand. “May I?” He asks, the first thing that’s been said during this whole project, and they’re about fifteen minutes in. Pidge sighs through her nose and hands over the striker an Keith lights the burner with ease. Pidge says nothing and turns back to her lab packet.

 

Keith, tired of her attitude, can’t help but bite out, “I’m not some kind of idiot.”

 

The girl’s face turns shocked as she looks up from her packet. “I-- What?”

 

“You’ve been treating me like some kind of idiot this whole time. You came to this table already thinking that I was just going to leech off of you, and don’t deny it.”

 

Pidge’s face turns red, “I--” but Keith continues.

 

“I’m in this class the same as you, and I work my ass off to be here. If you wanna take the lead on this, fine, but you need to communicate with me and drop the attitude.”

 

Pidge is quiet for a few minutes, before simply saying, “Okay... Sorry. I’ve just... been burned before.”

 

Keith sighs, some of the irritation draining from him now that he’s said his peace. “Yeah, I get it. So have I.”

 

“I’ve been paired up with people who just texted on their phone the whole time, which they’re not even allowed to do, and then got mad at me when they got caught, as if I should have been keeping watch on top of doing the whole experiment _by myself_.”

 

Keith snorts. “Yeah, I’ve gotten people who kept telling me they were working on their part, but then the night before the due date comes and they have nothing. It sucks.”

 

“God, that’s the worst! At least tell me ahead of time if you’re not going to do anything.”

 

Keith feels for her. She’s smart and people have taken advantage of that, just like they have with him. But it would’ve been nice if she didn’t just assume that he was gonna suck.

 

“I didn’t think you were an idiot, by the way...” She says then, quietly. “I just... thought you were lazy. Which isn’t much better, but... For what it’s worth.” Her face is red, and Keith appreciates that she has the presence of mind to be embarrassed but is also surprised at her honesty.

 

Keith looks away and back at his lab instructions. “Yeah, I get that sometimes.”

 

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly.

 

“We’re cool... Let’s just get this done. These should be ready to work with.”

 

“Yeah, I think so, too. I’m Pidge by the way,” she says as she looks up from her lab packet briefly, to which Keith responds with his own name.

 

Once the wooden sticks have spent an appropriate amount of time soaking in the salt water solutions, they’re to be lit on fire, a part of the experiment which Keith doesn’t want to admit he’s excited for, but he is.

 

He and Pidge both reach for a stick at the same time. Pidge quickly pulls her hand back and apologizes. Jeez, Keith hadn’t meant to scare her.

 

“Oh, oops sorry… Uh, you go ahead.”

 

“No, go ahead. I get to do the next one, though.”

 

They take turns lighting their sticks on fire and taking notes as they observe each flame burn a different color. Keith has to admit, as far as lab’s go, this one’s pretty good. It has a flames, cool colors, and he ended up getting paired with a decent partner (once they’d worked past their issues), and he’ll probably be working with her in the future.

 

As the class is drawing to a close, and they’re cleaning up, Pidge says to him, “Don’t worry about the lab report yet, we always get the next day in class to work on it.”

 

Keith would much rather just work on it tonight and get it done. Actually, he might, and almost says as much to Pidge but then she starts prattling on about other assignments she has to do and “Good thing it’s not due yet, because I have got a _shit ton_ to do for honors English, and Mrs. B has a non existent late assignment policy.”

  
Keith tunes her out. He reminds himself he’s not here to make friends. And even as the bell rings, and the boys, Hunk and Lance, catch up to her and they start laughing and chatting animatedly about the experiment, Keith can’t help but feel the smallest pang of… _something_. Longing? Jealousy? He doesn’t know. But then he reminds himself. He can’t make friends. It’s easier this way. 


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James makes an appearance and he's... kinda ooc.

Not having friends is easy. Especially when he inevitably leaves. He will miss no one and no one will miss him. But the thing that’s difficult? Having enemies. Having bullies.

 

Despite Keith’s best efforts, despite trying to lay low, he’s still a target. He’s a kid with a shitty childhood, his teeth suck, his jeans have holes, his hair is messy, and he wears the same hoodie every day. He recycles and rearranges the same four outfits, his shoes are dirty and falling apart. Keith _looks_ like a messed up kid, and bullies love that, for some reason. Whether they’re jocks trying to assert their dominance, or some other kid with problems just taking it out on him, they always find him.

 

Generally, Keith tries not to let them bother him. More often than not, they just talk shit, which Keith can usually ignore. Occasionally, there’s violence. Keith is pretty good at holding his own. But it depends on if it’s worth it to get some bruises from some dumbass kid in school, or to get bruises from a foster parent after they have to meet with the principal and take him out of school for three days.

 

So when Keith is leaving his locker and getting ready to head to his next class, he’s not at all surprised to see someone eyeing him up like he’s prey. The boy is bigger than Keith, most likely older, possibly stronger, but Keith gets a vibe that he’s more bark than bite. Maybe it’s the cocky upturn of his lip, like he knows he’s about to get a rise out of Keith just with his words. But Keith knows there isn’t much this guy can say that he hasn’t heard before.

 

Keith makes the unfortunate mistake of making eye contact, and the kid’s eyes almost lights up with the prospect of a new mouse for him to toy with. Keith tries not to roll his eyes. And he’s got to go all the way to the end of the hallway and up the stairs, which means there’s no real way to avoid this kid without ducking into a classroom he’s not supposed to be in. So Keith walks past him on his way to the stairwell, and the kid pushes himself off of the locker he’s leaning against to walk next to him.

 

“Holes in your pants big enough?” The kid sneers. It's weak, as far as insults go, but it puts Keith a little on edge. He pointedly ignores him.

 

“Looks like the shoes have holes to match.”

 

Keith sighs through his nose and keeps walking.

 

“Pretty sure you've been wearing that hoodie all week. No wonder it fucking stinks around here.”

 

_It’s been two weeks,_ Keith thinks. And then, _and I know for a fact I don't smell bad._

 

But he grits his teeth and continues on in silence.

 

“Hey, you fucking hear me? Do you understand me? Or are you as stupid as you are ugly?”

 

Okay, Keith knows he's not the best looking guy out there but he _certainly_ isn't fucking stupid, and he's about had it with this annoying ass kid.

 

Going against all of Keith’s better judgement, he grits out “Fuck off,” and that’s all the reaction the bully needs for him to start having some fun.

 

They’re at the end of the hallway now and Keith is unfortunately being backed against the wall, the kid looming over him a bit. “ _Fuck off_ , huh? No can do, kiddo, you’ve got your back against the wall, and I’ve got the upper hand.”

 

Keith goes silent again, deciding that saying anything further would just be a mistake he wasn’t ready to live with. But it seemed like the kid wasn’t interested in inflicting pain on him, or he would have done it by now, right? So likely, if Keith said nothing, this Kid would leave. So that’s what he vowed to do.

 

He can feel his heart hammering in his chest but he doesn’t say anything.

 

“What’s the matter? You can only spew vulgarities?” He tsked. “Now, I’m sure mommy and daddy taught you better than that. Or maybe they didn’t?”

 

Something in his face or his eyes must flicker at the mention of his parents, because there’s a flash of satisfaction in the other boy’s eyes. Keith isn’t sensitive about his parents, but maybe he can tell where the incessant ragging is going to be headed now. The kid is going to try to play Keith like a fiddle and if Keith doesn’t get it together, he might succeed.

 

“Maybe mommy and daddy didn’t teach you anything. I’ve heard the rumors. Foster Kid. You have no mommy and daddy do you? You’re bound to be fucked up, aren’t you?”

 

Keith sees red. He can feel his face get hot and his fists clench. Keith is _not_ fucked up, he isn’t _bound to be_ fucked up. Keith works hard to not be a product of his environment. He works his _ass_ off, and he is not going to be a fuck up. He isn’t going to be a foster kid stereotype, and he isn’t going to end up like his parents. And the kid standing in front of him, sneering at Keith like he could read him like a book, doesn’t know shit about him or what he’s capable of.

 

Keith remains silent, too angry to speak. The kid in front of him looks victorious, satisfied that he’s clearly struck a chord and is about to get the last word, even. He snorts then, smug. “Whatever. We’re done here. You’re not worth any more of my time. Frankly, I’m not sure you’re worth anyone else’s, either. Go crawl back to whatever trailer park you came out of.”

 

The kid turns, something getting his attention. Keith’s not sure what, can’t focus on anything above the beating of his heart pounding in his ears as he hauls his fist back and feels his knuckles connect with the other kid’s cheek.

 

The kid grunts and stumbles, a hand reaching up to cradle his face. He looks to Keith, eyes shocked, and Keith takes the opportunity to pull his fist back again and smash the kid’s nose, despite the throbbing in his hand.

 

Then there are arms around him holding him back from landing another punch, the smell of cologne and leather and before he knows it, a voice, “hey, hey, calm down!”

 

The other boy is holding his hand to his nose as it pours blood, but the person with their arms around Keith, (strong arms, the smell of leather… Jock… In a letterman jacket), says to Keith, “Whoa, hey, are you alright?”

 

Keith looks at him bewildered. Is he alright? He… he doesn’t know. It’s been a long time since he’s hauled off and punched anyone, since he’s lost control of himself like that, and he can’t even begin to _process_ how much backlash there’s going to be, and his knuckles are kind of stinging and throbbing now, but--

 

But the other kid has a bloody nose. Teachers are coming into the hallway, ready to escort them to the office, or call security or, _something_ , and… This person is asking Keith if he’s okay?

 

A shrill voice of a teacher echoes in his head, “Office. All three of you, let’s go!” And the jock let’s go of Keith but stays closer than Keith would like him to during the whole trek down the hall.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith sits in a dimly lit office. His eyes are fixed on the thin gray carpet beneath him, and his hand is going numb from a baggy of ice so graciously provided by the school nurse who did not do so well to hide her judgemental stares between the two boys. Next to him, the jock is tense and worried, probably some goody-goody who’s never seen the inside of a principal’s office. And down on the other end sits the other boy, who Keith has come to learn is named James, huffing and crying about how fucked up his nose is, complaining about the blood on his shirt and how Keith “needs to buy him a new one,” tilting his head back and gingerly holding his own baggy of ice on his face and a towel to the blood flow coming from his nostrils.

 

“Mr. Griffin,” the principal addresses James with a tone that sounds like she has done this too many times before. “Mr. Kogane,” indifferent, “and Mr. Shirogane,” surprised. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you boys in my office?”

 

James is the first to launch off. “That punk-ass down there probably broke my nose!”

 

“Language, James. Mr. Kogane, can you explain yourself?”

 

Keith isn’t about to treat the principal as his therapist. He’s not about to unleash all of his problems, unearth years of trauma to explain his momentary lapse in control that’s inevitably going to set him back in his school work. He’d rather take the punishment and get it over with. So he just shrugs.

 

The principal sighs, tired of this before it even began. “Well, alright then. I’m going to have to suspend you,” she says, pointing to Keith, the jock uncomfortably jiggling his leg between them. “We have a zero tolerance policy for violence against other students. I’m also going to call your parents and fill them in on the situation.”

 

James snorts at his end of the line up, “Are you sure that one down there has parents?” Keith can hear the smirk as he says it, he feels his fists involuntarily clench, but he takes a deep breath and refuses to retaliate this time. He’s got himself in enough trouble.

 

The boy in the middle clears his throat. “Ms. Sanda, if I may interject?” Ugh, gross, how polite does he need to be?

 

“Of course, Takashi.”

 

“When I came upon the two of them, James had, um… Mr. Kogane, up against the wall, and he looked quite threatening. I don’t know much about Mr. Kogane, here, except that he’s a new student that I usually see keep to himself and not cause trouble.” The _unlike James_ goes unsaid, but only barely. Even Keith can tell it’s there.

 

“That may be so, Takashi, but the fact still stands Keith has exhibited an act of violence against another student.”

 

“Maybe so, but like I said, from where I stood, he looked cornered. It looked like he was defending himself from an imminent attack.”

 

Ms. Sanda turns back to Keith. “Is this true, Keith? Did James have you backed against a wall, threatening you?”

 

Keith does not like admitting weakness. Yet, he knows an out when he sees one. He clears his throat.

 

“Yes, Ms. Sonda. I, uh-- He wouldn’t leave me alone, followed me down the hallway. We reached the end and I didn’t know what he was going to do.” Only partially a lie-- Keith knew that James had no interest in hitting him or being violent, just in running his mouth. But perhaps this Takashi guy was onto something, because the principal then shot an annoyed glare to James.

 

“Oh come on, that’s not true! I was turning to leave when he punched me!”

 

Ms. Sanda raised her hand, silencing him. “Mr. Griffin, this is by no means your first visit to my office, and you’re lucky I’m not taking any action against _you_ ,” which shut him up. Then she turns to Keith. “Mr. Kogane, I’m willing to settle for a week’s detention. I’m still going to call your parent or guardian regarding the situation. I better not see you in here again, or you _will_ receive the full suspension, and it will go on your record. Do I make myself clear?”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded.

 

“James, go get another once over from the nurse. You are excused to go home if necessary. Keith and Takashi, please get back to class.”

 

Keith and Takashi head off in the same direction after leaving the office.

 

“Hey, uh,” Takashi begins, hesitating. “Don’t worry about that James guy. He just likes to start shit. But, y’know, I’m pretty sure he won’t mess with you again. You really, uh… You really did a number on his face.”

 

Keith looks over to Takashi, who for some reason looked nervous, and Keith isn’t sure how to respond. Of course he isn’t going to worry about James. He knows his type, the kind that just likes to talk shit. He knows that he could fight him if needed. But that doesn’t matter, considering Keith is now going to be on his best behavior since he’s on the principal’s radar.

 

He just nods to Takashi and keeps walking. Keith isn’t interested in small talk or advice, much less from jocks. And much, much less from nice guy jocks. Nice people always have their own agenda and Keith refuses to be a part of it.

 

Though, Keith knows Takashi saved his ass today. He gives him a curt, “thanks for helping out,” then turns down the hall to head to his final class, leaving Takashi standing in the hallway looking after him.

 

* * *

 

 

As Keith sits in the passenger seat of Liv’s car, arms crossed and adamantly staring out the window, he can feel his aunt next to him at a loss for how to handle the situation. It’s like she knows she should say something, but doesn’t know what. Maybe she’s trying to figure out how to tell him she can’t deal with him. Maybe she’s trying to figure out a punishment and wants to think of a really good one before she lays into him. But she surprises him by asking a question.

 

“So what… What exactly was _that_ about?”

 

Her _tone_ surprises him, more than the words. Keith takes a chance and looks over at her, and notices she doesn’t look… she doesn’t look mad? She looks more worried than anything, brow slightly furrowed, tight grip on the steering wheel.

 

“I punched him,” Keith responds bluntly.

 

Liv snorts. “No shit, kid. But, I mean, why?”

 

He doesn’t have the energy to answer her and just wants her to _drop it._

 

“Was he bothering you?”

 

Silence.

 

“Did he threaten you, did he say something?”

 

Nothing.

 

“Well _Jesus,_ Keith, is it something _I_ did? Are you just acting out? What is it?”

 

When Keith looks again, she looks like she might cry. And Keith does _not_ want that.

 

Keith thinks carefully about what he wants to tell her. Certainly not what that kid said. It almost has him seeing red just remembering it. “He was saying stuff he shouldn’t have, so I punched him,” he settles on.

 

“Well, honey, what did he say?”

 

She does that sometimes; calls him honey. It somehow makes him feel the slightest bit warmer, makes the deepest ventricles of his heart unthaw just a _little_. Probably because his favorite foster mom always called him that. But he tries not to think too much about that; he has to remember not to get attached.

 

“He just said some stuff,” Keith says, not as heated as he normally would have. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Liv is quiet for a moment before she says, “Well... Alright. But whenever you need to talk about this kind of stuff, you know you can come to me, okay? When you’re ready. Or even the counselor at the school. I hear she’s nice… Anyway, I’m just saying, please no more punching. I’m sure he deserved it, but you got lucky with just getting detention. Look, I know moving is hard and everything is new, and scary, and you don’t know me, or trust me... But I’m here to help you. I promise.”

 

Keith thinks to himself, _it’s not new or scary_. It’s the same as it always is.

 

There’s silence again, and Keith is a little surprised she hasn’t even raised her voice. He still suspects she’s trying to come up with a punishment, until she says in a more upbeat voice, “So, what do you want for dinner tonight? I was thinking of ordering in. I’m craving Chinese.”

 

And… that was it? That’s it? He’s not… he’s not in trouble? Keith feels like he’s looking at her like she has two heads, but she just smiles back at him and muses about her favorite food she gets at the Chinese place a few blocks from the house.

 

He debates questioning her, but decides it’s in his best interest to just let it go. Why _ask_ for punishment when he was getting off (almost) scot-free? Twice in one day?

 

“How’s that sound?” She says, and Keith stares at her for another moment before nodding again. Her smile gets impossibly brighter, happy to get a positive reaction out of him, and pulls into the driveway.

 

But then he stomps up to his room and stays there, only coming out to eat.


	3. III

Pidge is already at his chemistry table when he walks in the next day, lab report packet out and ready to go. Except this time the table in front of them is occupied by the two boys she was talking to the day before, Lance and Hunk.

 

Keith was already getting looks in the hallway, people speculating on what had happened and why he gave the James kid a bloody nose. He wants to do as little socializing today as possible, but Pidge is happily chatting with the two boys sat in front of her. If Keith didn’t need to work on the report with her, he’d find somewhere else to sit. Instead, he slides into his seat, takes his paper out of his folder, and stares very intently at the questions they need to answer, and persistently ignores the conversation going on around him.

 

And while he would have _loved_ to finish the whole lab in that one class period, Lance and Hunk (mainly Lance), prove to be distractions that keep Pidge unfocused. More often than not, Lance tries to drag Pidge into some argument to derail her from her work; dumb arguments like Which Fast Food Burger Is Better. Which even Hunk chimes in on. And Keith diligently ignores. He doesn’t speak unless spoken to, or unless a question about the assignment comes up.

 

When class is about to end, and they’ve only got about half of their questions answered, Pidge turns to him and asks “What period do you have lunch?”

 

“Fifth. Why?” It sounds sharper than he intends it to, but he can’t be bothered with pleasantries right now.

 

“Okay, cool. Sit with us at lunch and we’ll work on it there.”

 

And that’s how Keith finds himself having lunch with people. He’d only been at the school for a little over a week, but he’d managed to eat alone all of that time. Lance even stands in the lunch line with him and gripes about today’s meal (a chicken sandwich, which Lance claims will be dry and overcooked on a stale bun), as if they’re old buddies just shooting the shit with each other.

 

Despite the assignment at hand, conversation goes on around him that he doesn’t understand, that he’s glaringly not a part of.

 

“ _No_ , we watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre, not Wrong Turn,” Lance adamantly declared for the second time.

 

“No, it was Wrong fucking Turn, Lance, they were _lost_.”

 

“Yeah, and they get lost in Texas Chainsaw Massacre, too!”

 

“Hunk, please tell him he’s wrong.”

 

“Well, I would love to, but the thing is, I was staring at my phone the whole time, because I _told_ you guys I don’t do horror movies.”

 

Keith fights not to roll his eyes, because the whole argument is asinine and dumb, and how anyone could confuse Texas Chainsaw with Wrong Turn is beyond him. He almost wishes he had been there, just so he could decide who was right and they could move on with the conversation. Preferably, so they could move onto a conversation that gets the assignment done, because they only get half an hour for lunch and that time is about up.

 

Pidge sighs and turns to him. “Okay, so I’m sure you already read this in the instructions, but we have to take all these questions and answers and type them up into a final report. If you wanna come to my place after school, we should be able to finish this up real quick. We’ve only got two questions left.”

 

“I, uh, have detention after school, actually.” Keith’s face heats up. He was lucky he didn’t get suspended, because he wouldn’t have been able to work with Pidge on this much of the project, but now it seems even detention is interfering as well. Plus, he can only imagine what they think of him in that moment; the bad kid everyone always assumed he was. He looks down at his lab report, unable to look in any of their eyes.

 

Next he hears not Pidge, but the incredulous voice of Lance as he almost yells, “What?! Didn’t you just start here two days ago, how are you already in detention?” At least this one isn’t afraid to blurt out what everyone else is thinking, but he’s surprised the story hasn’t gotten to them yet. Keith looks up and Lance’s eyes are wide as saucers.

 

But next to Lance, Pidge jams an elbow into his rib and says quietly, but not quite low enough, “Dude, what the hell?”

 

“Um, hello, are you not concerned? Or better yet, _impressed_  ? Like that has to be some kind of record, getting detention on your second day of school.”

 

“It’s the ninth,” Keith grunted, trying to move on from the subject but Lance is persistent.

 

“No, no, newbie, fess up, or we’re going to have to assume you, like, punched a kid in your first week.”

 

Keith knows his face is red now, glaring at Lance. “I _did_ punch a kid in my _second_ week.”

 

The three other people sitting at the table drop their jaws in disbelief.

 

“Wait, wait, wait, did you…?” Hunk begins piecing something together, squinting at him.

 

“Did _you_ give James Griffin a broken nose?”

 

Okay, Keith didn’t know he’d broken the kid’s nose, and he’s a bit pleased to find that out.

 

He lets himself feel a little smug as he answers, “Yes.”

 

The three of them nearly go ballistic.

 

“Oh my _God_ , finally someone did something to that smug asshole! He deserves worse, really. Holy _shit_ , Keith, you go dude,” Pidge yells.

 

“Whoa, that is _amazing_. I mean, I _heard_ about it, but I had no idea it was you! Wow, I’m sitting with a legend,” is from Hunk.

 

“WHAT? I wanted to be the guy that finally did that! I was just waiting for the right moment! But anyway, how did it feel? God I would love to just sock that guy, just once in his stupid face,” Lance cries.

 

The three of them talk over each other, proclamations of shock and joy that leave Keith at a loss for words, so all he does is stare at them while they continue to chatter on about this supposedly amazing feat. It’s the most praise Keith has gotten for punching someone in his life.

 

“Guys, guys, _guys_ ,” Pidge finally settles them all down. “Okay, we need to chill out. Keith. Thank you for your service . But how on _earth_ , did you not get suspended because of that?”

 

Keith shrugs, looking down at the table again, something about this random jock helping him out making him feel… odd. “Some kid named Takashi. He saw the whole thing happen. Made a case with the principal and I got detention instead, because I’m new and felt threatened or something.”

 

“Man, Shiro helped you out? That dude is a legend, I swear. _And_ he got you out of trouble? Totally amazing, that guy can do anything!” Lance says, dreamily looking off into the distance thinking of this… Shiro guy?

 

“I mean… Yeah, sure,” Keith grumbles.

 

“‘Shiro’ is what everyone calls Takashi,” Pidge explains. “But _damn_ , it’s so cool he got you out of trouble, but so _not_ cool that Matt didn’t tell me about it.”  
  
“Uh, yeah, what’s up with that?” Hunk pipes up.

 

Pidge shrugs. “I dunno, beats me.” Then she turns back to Keith. “Anyway, back to what I was originally saying. It’s totally cool if you have detention right after school, we can work on it when you get out. We still have a few days ‘til it’s due, anyway.”

 

Then Pidge gives him her number, his first new number besides Liv’s inside the cell phone she got him last week. He had fully anticipated not adding any numbers to his cell phone, and actually not even using it. He hasn’t even charged it in the week since he got it and it’s just about dead. She texts her address and he uses his map app to discover it’s actually walking distance from his aunt’s house.

 

Lunch ends and he finds himself walking out lumped in with Pidge’s group. They walk past James and snicker at his busted nose and bruises around his eyes, and they say again to Keith that they can’t believe he did that. But they’re smiling as they say it. There’s an odd kind of comradery that he’s not used to, not anymore, and doesn’t know how to react to. So he separates from the group, quietly slinking away and in the direction of his next class, which luckily is in the opposite direction of wherever they’re going.

 

Takashi-- Shiro, walks past him and gives him a nod, like they’re old friends, and if he hadn’t already been considering today to be a weird ass day, that would have sealed it.

 

After Keith finishes his lab report, he will be swearing himself off from all social interaction unless explicitly required to keep his GPA up.

 

* * *

 

 

On the list of things that Keith actually considers punishment, detention isn’t necessarily one of them. Sure, it keeps him in school an extra hour longer, but it also gives him time to finish his homework, which he would more than likely be doing at home anyway. So the bright side is, a week of doing this is really nothing to Keith. The down side to this, at least at this moment, is Lance also has detention today. And he does not. Stop. Talking. Keith’s lack of reciprocating and pointed glares do nothing to dissuade Lance from trying to talk to Keith about… Literally anything.

 

“Man, this is so lame. Can you believe Mr. K put me in here just for being late? Absolutely ridiculous, man. I mean... I know it was, like, the third time. But c’mon, detention?”

 

“Oh, hey, dude, have you seen the newest season of Jessica Jones?” Keith shakes his head.  “Oh. Dude. What’s the matter with you?! It’s amazing.” Keith doesn’t waste his time telling Lance he doesn’t have Netflix.

 

“Hey, do you get these equations in chemistry? I know it’s last week’s homework, but, like, I’m still having a hard time with it. I keep meaning to ask Hunk and Pidge, but the lab had me distracted, and then we have other stuff going on in our other classes, y’know what I mean?”

 

Keith often glares at the teacher wondering _why_ he’s not saying anything, but the guy is leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed. Keith rolls his eyes and tries to quietly and quickly explain equations and chemical reactions to Lance, who still doesn’t seem like he totally gets it by the end of detention.

 

Detention ends and Lance walks next to him on the way out and says bye to Keith as he gets in Liv’s car. The way Liv’s face seems to brighten up at the idea that maybe Keith may have made a friend is ridiculous, so he pulls his hood up and does _not_ answer any questions she has. Keith does not make friends.

 

Liv gives up by the time they sit down to have dinner together, this time something she actually cooked. His aunt is not a gourmet chef, by any means. Actually, she’s not even much of a homecook. But there’s not much one can do to mess up grilled cheese, short of burning it, which Liv only did a little, so it’s not bad. Keith doesn’t know how she’s lived as long as she has on take out and dinner that’s basically junk food. At this rate, Keith won’t have to worry about being too skinny before long.

 

His aunt falls asleep on the couch while watching the news, and he slips past her to go to Pidge’s to finish their homework.

 

The walk to Pidge’s house is an easy ten minute stroll, just a few blocks away. It leads to a house that’s actually quite cute, with big plants hanging from the roof of the porch. There are overgrown bushes, cracks in the concrete leading up to the porch steps, and a chain link fence with a “BEWARE OF DOG” sign. It looks… homey. Lived in. Loved. Keith doesn’t exactly know what he was expecting, but either way he feels good walking up to the front door.

 

It’s a stark contrast to his aunt’s house. Liv’s house is nice, but it’s smaller. There’s nothing that could count as landscaping, no fence, and the porch is more of a stoop. And it doesn’t feel like a home. He gets the impression she hasn’t lived there long; there’s general day to day clutter, dirty dishes in the kitchen, a stack of mail on the coffee table, a pair of Liv’s shoes in every room, and yet it’s nothing that has any kind of permanence. No nicknacks, no family photos, no house plants, no wall decorations. And that’s fine to Keith. There are no family heirlooms that Liv feels the need to awkwardly explain, no family photos of people who never cared about him, or worse, of his own mother he hasn’t seen in ten years.

 

Looking at Pidge’s house is the complete opposite. He knows it will be full of all the things the house that he’s living in lacks, and it while it’s something that makes him feel good, he also feels a strange sense of longing he can’t place.

 

It doesn’t help when a pleasant, short-haired woman answers the door, smiling as she asks him to take his shoes off as he enters. She has a smile that reminds Keith of his favorite foster mother, and he shoves that right down and refuses to let himself think of that right now. Because he’s here for homework. He’s here for his GPA. He’s not here to reminisce about better times and miss the people that he’s had to let go of in this life. He’s not here to get attached.

 

Pidge bounces down the stairs, ponytail swinging and a laptop clutched to her chest. “Hey, Keith,” she smiles like they’re _friends_ , and these guys _really_ need to stop that. “Come on, we’ll go to the kitchen table. There’s more room there. Also my room is gross, so, trust me this is better.”

 

Keith shrugs as they make their way to the kitchen. It’s small, warm, and smells like they ate dinner not long ago.

 

They scoot the chairs close to each other so they can both see the computer screen, Pidge typing up what Keith reads to her. They’re making good time on the project and Keith is kind of thrilled they’re about to be done so he can get out of here. Though, for as much as there’s a part of him clawing to leave, there’s a smaller, quieter part that wants to stick around.

 

The two of them are focused, typing quietly, pounding out this lab report, when Keith is caught off guard by another person entering the kitchen. It’s a boy, probably a bit older than them, and… actually, he looks exactly like Pidge but taller, with shorter hair and glasses. Oh, and of _course_ , behind him is Takashi. Is _Shiro_. Because why wouldn’t this guy suddenly be everywhere that Keith is? At this rate, he’s going to go home and Shiro will be just sitting on his couch, or passing him in the upstairs hallway.

 

Naturally they make eye contact, and Shiro gives him an easy smile and a small wave, and that’s when the other boy seems to notice Keith, and looks him up and down.

 

“Oh, hey,” he says, “You’re the new kid right? The one that punched James Griffin?”

 

Keith inhales through his nose and tries not to roll his eyes. He doesn’t want to answer, because he _doesn’t_ want to talk about this. He wants to finish the lab and leave.

 

But the boy is looking back and forth between Keith and Shiro, because Shiro must have told him about it at some point (of course; probably part of his goody-goody facade is to tell everyone how he bailed Keith out), but Shiro must notice the tension that’s suddenly settled over Keith because he has the decency to look like he might feel bad for gossipping about him and getting caught.

 

Yet Pidge seems to have no shame, as she’s the one whose eyes get a little brighter as she looks up and goes, “ _Yes_. This is him. Keith. That’s my brother, Matt. And, apparently you already know Shiro.”

 

Shiro nods again, and now his face is turning a little red, and Keith thinks _Good, that’s what you get for talking about me_.

 

“By the way, thank you both, _oh_ so much, for telling me Shiro had a front row view to Griffin getting a broken nose,” Pidge fake pouts.

 

“Hey, Shiro didn’t even tell _me_ until I saw the kid with a messed up face this morning.”

 

Oh. That was weird. Why did he wait to tell them?

 

Matt turns back to Keith, “Man, why did you do it? Everyone’s dying to know.”

 

“Probably was acting like an outright dick,” Pidge mused.

 

“Oh, well, definitely,” Matt replied. “But no one’s hit that dude in years. I wanna know what he said that finally put someone over the edge.”

 

“Ooh, true! I don’t think anyone’s hit him since grade school. I bet it was something super fucked up.”

 

Keith fought with himself between interjecting and letting it go. He could just let the two of them speculate. He could let them enthusiastically muse about what it was that made him go “over the edge.” Or he can remind them that he’s in the room with them and tell them what they want to hear, so they can stop talking, essentially, about him like he’s not there.

 

He clenches his fist. Another deep breath.

 

And then a voice, a quieter one, but smooth and deep. “Guys? Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it right now.”

 

Can this guy stop trying to bail him out?

 

“Oh, no, come _on_. We’ve got the man of the hour himself here at the kitchen table, and he can finally answer Altea High’s most burning question!” Matt prattled, Pidge next to Keith nodding.

 

“Plus we have Shiro to corroborate as witness!”

 

Keith has had it. He’s _had_ it. He has a homework assignment and a burning need to lock himself in a room and not look at or speak to anyone. But instead Matt and Pidge’s intense enthusiasm is beating on him to talk about things he _doesn’t want to talk about_ , and he can feel Shiro getting more tense and worried, probably feeding off of Keith’s own irritation and tension.

 

“He called me a fuck up.” Keith blurts out, short and clipped, and not making eye contact. But out of his peripheral he sees Pidge’s mouth drop open.

 

“He did _what_?”

 

“He called me stupid, ugly, fuck up, and worthless.” He looked up then to look between Matt and Pidge. “Happy?”

 

Pidge picked up on his tone, promptly closed her mouth and looked away, knowing for a second time in as many days that she’s gotten on Keith’s bad side.

 

Matt, unphased, shook his head. “Unbelievable. That kid _absolutely_ had what was coming to him. Always has. I’m glad you punched him!”

 

“Matt…” Shiro was leaning against a counter, bouncing his leg and looking at Matt with pleading eyes like he wanted to get out of there.

 

Matt sighs. “Yeah, yeah, Golden Boy, I know you’ve got curfew. We’re going.” He turns back to Keith. “Keep up the good work!”

 

Shiro shoots him an apologetic look as he slumps out of the kitchen behind Matt.

 

Pidge also looks at him apologetically, though it’s more of a side eye since her head is still tilted toward her laptop.

 

“Um…” She starts. A moment later, “I’m… sorry. I didn’t know he said anything like that. I just… I don’t know.”

 

“It’s whatever.”

 

“So. This is twice now you’ve wanted to rip my head off, huh.”

 

Keith sighs, “No… I don’t want to rip your head off. I just… It’s been a lot lately. I don’t like people assuming they know things about me when they don’t, and I don’t like attention. Punching a kid is the opposite of a solution to either of those problems.”

 

Pidge snorts. “Yeah, I’ll say.”

 

The tension between them ebs away a bit.

 

“I am sorry, though. I wasn’t thinking. Been doing a lot of that lately.”

 

Keith must appreciate sincere apologies, because he feels his bristles soften and his hackles lower. He tries not to think about how he gets so few of them.

 

“Well, start thinking about this lab report and then you can make up for it,” he smirks.

 

She lets out another small snort and says, “deal.”

 

* * *

 

 

The walk back to aunt Liv’s is dark but not scary. It's calming, relaxing almost. The air is fresh, though cold. He finds his thoughts wandering to Shiro for reasons he doesn't really know. Shiro had no reason to help him out of getting suspended. And he could have told Matt and Pidge everything about his fight as soon as it happened, but he didn't. He just.. didn’t _get_ Shiro. He seems… Nice in a way that doesn't have a hidden agenda. He’s nice in a way that Keith isn't used to. He doesn't quite get the vibe he gets from people who are nice only out of obligation or only to make themselves look good. But that's not to say he hasn’t been burnt before by trusting people that he shouldn’t have.

 

He pushes thoughts of Shiro out of his head as he climbs up the front steps into the house, ready to crawl into his bed and wake up and get back to a normal life of no human interaction, at least not until his next lab report with Pidge. He doesn't know how he's going to shake those three off of him in the downtime, but he'll figure it out tomorrow.

 

What he sees when he opens the door makes his gut drop. Liv is pacing back and forth, hand running through her hair, eyes wide and worried. The tension in the air is thick. She’s holding her phone tight in her hand,and she draws her arms into her chest like she’s protecting herself while she paces. Her feet scuffle a bit as she stops in her tracks and her eyes zero in on Keith as he opens the door.

 

He stops like a deer in headlights. Oh shit, oh _shit_. Liv is pissed and he’s so screwed right now.

 

“Keith! Where the _hell_ were you? Why didn’t you answer your phone, I’ve been trying to call for hours and then it just went to voicemail! I thought you _ran away_ , Keith, what were you thinking! You can’t just leave and not say anything!”

 

He hasn’t seen Liv lose it like this yet. Granted, it’s only been a few weeks, but the sight of Liv so jarringly frazzled and angry has his heart pounding. Oh god, she’s going to get rid of him. He disobeyed her, he didn’t answer his phone, he just didn’t think of it. God, she was going to kill him. She was going to grab a… A spoon or a belt or something. Or maybe just her hand, she’s going to, she’s going to… 

 

He knew this would happen eventually. She was too nice for too long, and she was bound to show this side of herself eventually. Especially if she’s related to his mother.

 

“Keith, I was _worried_ about you,” she says, more quietly now.

 

She… wait. She was worried? Worried... Keith takes a moment to really look at her, and… he supposes her wild demeanor is more one of panic than anger. Yeah, definitely panic. But. Why worried? Keith just keeps fucking up, and Liv keeps worrying about him. Maybe he really isn’t worth anyone’s time. James’s words echo in his mind, and he feels his stomach drop.

 

“I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. I just wasn’t thinking,” It’s the most sincere Keith has been in the weeks since he’s met her.

 

Her panicked face softens a bit and she asks, “Where _were_ you?”

 

“I went to work on a lab report.”

 

A look of surprise takes over Liv’s face. “A… A lab report?”

 

He nods.

 

“You weren’t like… sneaking out to go party or something.”

 

He involuntarily snorts at that. Keith has no desire in parties, as he has no desire in socializing more than necessary.

 

A few moments later, she asks, “What about the phone?”

 

Keith takes a moment to dig in his backpack and pulls out his phone. He presses the home button but the screen stays black. “Um… I think it’s dead.”

 

For the first time since he’s walked through the door, he thinks Liv finally breathes. She lets out a deep sigh.

 

“Keith. Please keep your phone charged. I’m paying that phone bill, and I would appreciate if you kept it charged so I can get a hold of you, alright?”

 

Keith nods. He can’t argue with that.

 

Liv finally visibly relaxes a bit. “Okay. This was all a misunderstanding. No hard feelings, okay? Just. _Please_ tell me next time you leave the house. And by the way, you’re allowed to go to parties, if you want, I just need to know first.”

 

Keith almost laughs again at the thought of going to a party. “Noted,” he responds.

 

She flops onto the couch, still looking at him. “So… Whose house were you at? What’s your lab about?”

 

“I was at this girl Katie’s. I think Holt is her last name? It was a chemistry lab with different color flames.”

 

“Oh, different colored flames, huh? That sounds like a neat lab, was it fun?”

 

“Um, yeah actually.” Keith feels more relaxed right now than he has in… weeks. Maybe even months? Between the relief that Liv isn’t mad and feeling bad for making her worry and panic, he’s let his icy walls down a bit. He sits on the loveseat and lets her muse about old assignments she used to do in high school, some super cool and some really hard. Turns out Liv was an honor student, too. Maybe that’s where he gets his work ethic from, because he’s sure it wasn’t from his mother.

 

“I’m gonna get a bowl of ice cream. Do you want some ice cream? I’ve had a stressful evening, and I could use some,” she teases him. Frankly, he could use a cigarette, but he knows that’s not happening under Liv’s roof. He agrees to the ice cream, and they hunker down in the living room and start watching a late night show together, which neither of them can stay up for the entirety of.

 

Tomorrow Keith will wake up and his walls will be back up. They _have_ to be. He’s been too lucky lately. He’s lucky he didn’t get a harsher punishment from the school or Liv about the fight. He’s lucky she wasn’t actually mad when she didn’t know where he was. And after the unnecessary stress she put him through, she deserved at least a nice evening with the kid she thought ran away from her. But tomorrow would be back to normal. Hopefully. Well, maybe he can be nicer to Liv. But not too nice.

 

He has rules and he can’t break them.

 


	4. IV.

Pidge has been sitting next to Keith for a week. He expected her to move up closer to Hunk and Lance, or to even try to get her seat next to Hunk back, but it seems Lance has a vice grip on his new lab partner. Pidge doesn’t seem to mind anymore, though. Keith isn’t sure if he minds. He supposes it’s better than if _he_ were the one stuck with Lance, so maybe he should feel grateful that he’s got someone like Pidge to sit next to. But that doesn’t mean they’re friends.

 

Oh, and he’s been sitting at their lunch table for a week, too. He had fully intended on not doing that. He fully intended on going back to eating lunch alone, quietly and in peace, 30 minutes to himself to enjoy his food without having to listen to a teacher lecture. But Pidge had waved him over when he was walking by with his tray. And they had made eye contact. And sure, they weren’t friends, but Keith wasn’t a _dick_ , and he wasn’t going to ignore her or say no for no reason. So he sat with them at lunch for… a whole week. He ate his food, stayed on the fringe of their conversations, only spoke when spoken to. Half the time he didn’t know what they were talking about anyway.

 

There were no random appearances by Shiro that week, luckily. The universe must have decided to cut him some slack, realizing things were weird enough since he moved here, they didn’t need to add a random jock popping up every time he tries to do something. Yes, that week, Keith was lucky in that respect.

 

This week, he’s not so lucky. Of all the places Keith expects to see Shiro, for some reason, the library isn’t necessarily one of them. Much less, does he expect to see Shiro _working_ in the library. But of course he does. Because Shiro is just such a good guy. It’s honestly not fair to give Keith a week to think he’s shaken this guy off to have him randomly show up again.

 

There’s a book Keith wants, a book he kind of needs, because he’s tired of awkwardly doodling in his notebook and watching the stupid announcements in homeroom in the mornings. It’s a book called _Packing for Mars_ , which is all about the science of the effects of space travel on humans and what it’s like to be in space. Keith is fascinated by space and space travel, so he might as well start his morning with something that he enjoys and finds interesting instead of dreading the rest of the day.

 

But in order to do that, he must endure being in Shiro’s presence.  He hopes that he can achieve his goal without having to speak to Shiro, but since the universe let him dodge Shiro enough, he needs to confront him now.

 

Shiro notices him as he walks by, crouching down with a cart of books next to him as he tries to find the exact spot for the book he’s putting back.

 

Shiro flashes him a smile as he says, “Hey, Keith. We need to stop meeting like this.”

 

Keith lets himself roll his eyes, which actually makes Shiro laugh. And then Keith doesn’t let himself think about how nice the sound is.

 

“Sorry. Couldn’t help myself,” Shiro says as he stands up. “Anything I can help you with?”

 

Keith puts his hands in his pockets. “No thanks, I’m good. I’m just grabbing a book real quick.”

 

“Ah, alright. Do you need help finding it?”

 

“Nope. I’m alright. Thanks, though,” Keith says as he turns away to head over to find this book… somewhere.

 

He wandered up and down the rows of shelves, trying to find the section he needed. He could just ask Shiro for help but… He doesn’t need it, damn it. He doesn’t need Shiro to keep bailing him out. Or to keep being nice to him. Or to keep smiling at him or laughing around him, or… _Wait, wait, stop_ , he tells himself. He needs to stop thinking about Shiro!  He hasn’t seen the guy in a week, but suddenly because they happen to both be in the library Keith can’t concentrate. He doesn’t _understand_. Shiro is just some… some handsome, nice guy, and Keith has no right to lose his mind just because a handsome guy is nice to him.

 

Keith takes a deep breath and continues looking for his book. He can feel eyes on his back every once in a while, probably Shiro checking in to see if he found his book. He’s probably debating if he’s going to come up to Keith and ask him again if he needs his help. It doesn’t take long until he can’t take it anymore and he leaves the library, pissed off at his lack of focus. Pissed off at how thrown off Shiro makes him feel. Pissed off that it’s all so _dumb_.

 

Keith goes back to the library two more times to try to find the book that week. He doesn’t find it on his own and asks Shiro. And Shiro just smiles and leads him to the book. Shiro tells him it’s a good read and that Keith has good taste.

 

Keith tries not to blush as he leaves.

 

* * *

 

 

A few more weeks pass. It’s more of the same. Pidge and Keith do another lab together, he continues to eat lunch with the trio, and mostly avoids Shiro, except when he finds himself in the library. He’s not sure when he made it his goal to avoid Shiro. Probably when the idea of running into him messed with his head in ways he wasn’t used to.

 

It’s early on a Friday afternoon, and Keith and Pidge have finished their lab report ahead of schedule and he’s finished with all of his other work for the weekend. He’s not really sure what he’s going to do in his free time. Perhaps browse YouTube for more videos about space, or maybe he’ll find himself down a rabbit hole of alien sightings, paranormal findings, and conspiracy theories _again_ … He’d made the mistake earlier in the week of finally using the laptop Liv got for him when he first moved in. Keith wasn’t big on social media or losing himself in his phone. It took him a while to warm up to the laptop, an offering from Liv in case he needed it for school. Keith saw it at the time as her attempting to buy his affection, and he’s still on the fence about that. But sitting in his room with nothing to do and no interest in sitting in the living room with Liv led him to just try and use it. Keith knows how much they cost, and there’s no point in wasting a perfectly good computer.

 

A few aerospace google searches later, and he found himself on YouTube watching videos about space travel, in depth almost documentary-like videos about past missions. And then he eventually found himself on the conspiracy part of YouTube. Was the moon landing fake? What was really at Area 51? And what about that phone call from an ex Area 51 employee to a radio station that was suddenly cut off in the middle? What about all of the stories of alien abductions? And the medieval paintings with odd objects in them that look an awful lot like UFOs? Then that led him to, Are Aliens Real? Real Aliens Caught on Camera. Real Ghosts Caught on Camera. Most Convincing Evidence of Ghosts. The list… Goes on. Keith found himself running on 3 hours of sleep the next day and it was entirely the internet’s fault.

 

Keith can pretend he’s annoyed with himself all he wants, but he’s not entirely against the idea of getting home from school, hunkering down in his room, an consuming every weird, creepy video on YouTube he can find. He’s nearly daydreaming about it when Pidge tries getting his attention from where she’s sitting next to him at the lunch table.

 

“Hello, Keith? Earth to Keith!” She says, moving her hand in front of his face.

 

He looks at her, annoyed. “What?” he snaps.

 

“Calm down killer,” she says, putting her hand back down. “Have you been listening? We’re having a movie night tonight.”

 

 _Okay, good for them?_ He thought to himself.

 

“Well, that sounds cool. Hope you guys have fun.”

 

Pidge rolls her eyes, Lance smack his hand against his forehead, and Hunk just chuckles and says, “Aw, Keith! We’re _inviting_ you, dude!”

 

“Oh… You are?”

 

“Uh, yeah? You’ve been sitting at our table for _weeks_ , and we haven’t hung out. We barely _know_ you!” Lance cries.

 

“Oh… Um. That’s nice but--”

 

Pidge immediately starts shaking her head, “Oh no, no, _no_ you don’t. I know for a fact you don’t have any homework this weekend. You said so when we were finishing the lab that it was the last thing you had to do. And not to be rude, but I know you don’t have plans with any other friends, because you don’t have any. You’re coming over tonight. My parents are away and we can have the giant TV downstairs and the surround sound to ourselves.”

 

“Ugh, and _pizza_. Can we get it from Mineo’s? They have the _perfect_ crispy crust. Oh man, if I could make that at home… It’d be game over,” Hunk looks off, presumably thinking dreamily of this pizza.

 

Pidge snorts. “Of _course,_ Hunk. But only if Keith comes,” she says, shooting Keith a wicked grin. Keith glares in return.

 

Hunk looks at Keith with sad eyes, as wide as saucers. “Oh, come on, man. You _have_ to come now. Please, don’t deny me of this pizza! It’s too important. Please, Keith? Please, please, please?”

 

Hunk begs Keith with puppy dog eyes, Lance joining in. Lance is probably more interested in annoying Keith than getting pizza, and Keith can’t deny that it’s working.

 

He means to glare at Pidge, but he can feel it turn into a pout as he says to her, “That wasn’t fair.”

 

Pidge smirks at him. “Well, that’s _your_ problem for thinking I play fair.”

 

Hunk and Lance are still begging, and Keith can’t take it anymore. He sighs and agrees to come over.

 

And that’s how he finds himself on Pidge’s plush couch, socked feet pulled up under him as he leans against the arm rest. It’s not exactly the largest couch, so he more or less ends up smooshed against the arm, trying to avoid having his personal space breached with Hunk and Lance also on the couch, already munching on popcorn. Pidge is sat in front of her entertainment stand, browsing the Blu Ray selection.

 

“Alright, so…” She mumbles, moving around cases to get a good look at what she has. “What are we in the mood for.”

 

Keith is in the mood for his bed, but he doesn’t say that out loud.

 

“Something… with cool effects,” Lance muses.

 

“Something with good characters!” Hunk says around a mouth full of popcorn.

 

Pidge hums as she continues to look through the collection. “Any suggestions, Keith?”

 

When he doesn’t say anything, Pidge looks over her shoulder at him. He shrugs.

 

“We didn’t invite you to be a bump on a log, buddy,” she says, turning back to the entertainment stand. “What’s your favorite genre?”

 

Keith thinks for a moment. “Probably… Horror. Or Sci-Fi. I’d watch anything but romance, I think.”

 

“That’s fair,” Pidge says.

 

“No romance?” Lance says, sounding very offended for some reason. “Excuse you, but no one can resist the Notebook.”

 

“I can, and I have.” Keith has heard of this infamous romantic story, but has managed to go his whole sixteen years on this Earth without seeing it, and he doesn’t plan to change that any time soon.

 

“Oh, Pidge, turn it on right now! He doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

 

“Absolutely not. Keith, I can promise we won’t be watching a romance tonight. I can’t make any promises on the horror, though. Hunk’s not the biggest fan of it, but that usually doesn’t stop us.”

 

Hunk pouts. “How come you’ll put a ban on romance for Keith, but not a ban on horror for me?”

 

“I can’t scare him away for his first movie night! Maybe we’ll rope him into one next time.”

 

“I won’t come.”

 

“You will if we just don’t tell you,” Lance says, satisfied with the fact that he may have the opportunity to trick Keith into watching the Notebook sometime in the future.

 

Pidge loads a disc into the Blu Ray player and then squishes herself between Hunk and Lance, further pushing Keith into the arm of the couch.

 

As the movie is starting, the front door opens and who should come through the door but Matt and his good friend Shiro. Because no matter how hard Keith tries, he can’t avoid Shiro forever. Though he really sure would like to. But maybe this is just his life now, Shiro showing up when he leasts expects it.

 

Matt and Shiro saunter over to the couch to check out what they’re watching. “Hey, guys.What’s up?” Matt says.

 

Hunk and Lance respond with their own “Hey”s and Keith stays tight lipped. Pidge feigns annoyance, “Ugh, not you two losers. I wanted to have a raging party without you.”

 

If Keith knows anything, it’s that Shiro is not a loser. He’s not really sure about Matt, not that he doesn’t seem like a nice guy, but Shiro is a jock and he’s attractive. That’s really all it takes to not be a loser, by most high school standards.

 

“Ha ha, very funny,” Matt says. “We’re going to be upstairs anyway. We’ve got to work on that big final project before the other finals start rearing their ugly head.”

 

“Oh that AP Physics thing?”

 

“Yep, that’s the one.”

 

Wait.. AP Physics? Shiro is a junior in AP Physics? Okay, so he’s attractive, a jock, and _smart_. That’s a triple threat; the perfect popular person stereotype. Yeah. Shiro definitely isn’t a loser.

 

Maybe Shiro wasn’t always perfect. Maybe Shiro was always smart, but only recently became a jock. Maybe Shiro wasn’t always hot. Maybe he looked weird before he hit puberty. Maybe--

 

Wait, wait. _Get a hold of yourself, Keith_. Whatever… Keith doesn’t know why he’s sitting on Pidge’s couch contemplating the enigma that is Shiro and his perfection, but he should probably pay attention to the movie that’s starting.

 

He quickly realizes it’s the Deadpool movie, a movie he didn’t get a chance to see when it came it or… At all.

 

“What?! I swear you lived under a rock,” Lance exclaims. “How can you not have seen this masterpiece-- _Ow_ …”

 

Pidge must have shoved her elbow into Lance’s side, and Hunk gives Lance a look that Keith can read means “Please stop talking.”

 

Ah, they must have talked about his situation before. It’s easy to tell that Keith fits into a foster kid stereotype, or at least a troubled kid stereotype, just based off of how he looks and his general demeanor. James could see it the moment he saw Keith. They’ve probably mused about Why is Keith So Aloof and Brooding. He looks like trouble, he’s quiet and guarded, he got in a fight his first week of school. The general information that he’s in the foster system has probably gone around by now; perhaps a parent on the faculty told their child, or maybe Liv knows the Holts enough to chat about the fact that her nephew is moving in. At any rate, the rumors are spreading, and his new… Friends? Acquaintances? Whatever they are, they’re not immune to the rumors and speculations as well. They know enough, or have guessed enough about Keith’s past to not want to bring it up. He can’t bring himself to appreciate them not wanting to hash open his trauma, because he really just wishes they weren’t speculating at all.

 

Keith ignores them and continues to watch the movie. The pizza comes, they all dig in, and Keith has to admit it _is_ the best he’s had probably ever. It’s a good thing Pidge got two extra large pizzas, because Keith has three and a half slices, abandoning his fourth slice halfway through so he doesn’t make himself sick eating too much, but it’s just _so good_.

 

The next movie (which Pidge and Lance insist on, because, “It’s a movie _night_ , not watch one movie and leave.”) much to Keith’s delight, is a horror movie. It’s actually one he’s been able to see before and he really loved it, so he’s thrilled to get to watch it again. Hunk is terrified the whole time, and even Lance and Pidge jump, and it makes Keith chuckle. He feels warm and happy and he’s glad he came along. He probably would never admit it, but deep inside he is glad.

 

The movies wrap up and Lance and Hunk wait for someone to pick them up, and Keith is about to walk home. It’s dark and chilly, but it’s only a few blocks, and he’ll be fine. Shiro comes downstairs and happens to be heading out the same time as Keith. They walk out together, making it to the bottom of the porch steps, and Shiro offers him a ride.

 

It figures that perfect Shiro would have a car. Actually, it looks like he has an old boxy Jeep, but a car is a car and an it’s amazing feat to accomplish owning one in high school. Keith’s stomach involuntarily flips as Shiro’s soft warm voice offers to drive him home.

 

Keith, of course, declines.

 

“Really, it won’t be a problem,” Shiro says, and Keith can see his soft smile made softer by the yellow glow of Pidge’s porch light.

 

Keith had walked out Pidge’s door content and, dare he say, happy. He let his icy walls thaw, and the cold early spring air reminded him to build them back up again. He had a good night, but it’s over now, and it’s time to go home alone and wake up tomorrow and go back to his closed off ways.

 

But the air outside is perhaps too cold, and Keith is too used to the warmth of being crammed on Pidge’s couch with three other warm bodies, and he shivers. Shiro decides then and there that he should _not_ be walking home, not in this weather.

 

“I couldn’t live with myself if I saw you in school on Monday, miserable with a cold,” Shiro says, half joking, half not.

 

Keith sighs. “Alright, fine. But really, it’s only a few blocks. I’d live.”

 

“Well if it’s only a few block, it’s really no problem then.”

 

Keith climbs into the passenger side of Shiro’s Jeep. The only new thing in here is the radio. Everything else is old and worn. Even the pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view looks old and faded, no longer giving off any scent.

 

“There’s _no way_ this thing works anymore,” Keith says, flicking Shiro’s air freshener.

 

Shiro chuckles, the sound somehow helping to ease Keith’s shivering. “Yeah, it’s been there forever. But, it kind of adds character don’t you think?”

 

“Ugh, no? These things are so common. Everyone has them.”

 

“Not true! People use those clip things now. The ones that clip into the vents. This is _retro_.”

 

“Oh my God,” Keith groans. “You’re joking, right?”

 

Shiro laughs and says, “Well, when you find me a replacement, then I’ll change it.”

 

Keith directs Shiro to his house. Shiro makes a comment about how quickly they made it and “See, it really was no problem. Not even a few minutes.” Keith rolls his eyes and says that means that he could have just _walked_ no problem. Shiro tells him they’ll agree to disagree.

 

Liv is already fast asleep, so Keith closes the door as quietly as he can and locks it. He tip toes up the stairs, sheds his clothes, and falls into bed. He thinks he should be able to fall right to sleep. Something about coming home late at night just makes him feel tired, even if he thinks on any other night he could stay up later. But he finds himself laying in bed, reflecting on all of his rules he’s breaking, anxiety mounting. Nothing about this situation is permanent. He knows that, he _knows_. He’s been burned too many times to _not_ know that. But everyone is just… so _nice._

 

Pidge, Lance, and Hunk genuinely enjoy his company enough to invite him over to hang out, not just for homework. And he was in a car with Shiro and had a conversation and didn’t hate it. And Liv has done nothing but support him since day one, despite him shutting her out more often than not. He has it good here… _Too_ good. Like, almost too good to be true. Something is going to happen and he knows it. He’s never been happy for long, and he doesn’t think the universe is going to be doing him any favors in that department any time soon. He can try his hardest to be on his best behavior, he can endure a shitty household so he can stay put long enough to make good grades and not end up somewhere worse, but something _always_ happens. Parents can change their minds and not want him, or they can’t afford him even with the state funds, or they get caught abusing him despite his best efforts to hide it. Liv could get tired of him, she could lose her job, she could realize he’s too much to handle. She hasn’t hit him yet, but sometimes people just snap, and sometimes it’s the people you least expect. Anything could uproot Keith from this life at any moment. So he has to work on building his walls back up. He has to remember that he can’t have friends and he can’t get attached. The more he thinks about it, the less the bed feels like his as his eyes drift closed and fall asleep and dreams of nothing.


	5. V.

More weeks have passed, much the same as they have been. He spends more time than he’d like with Lance, Hunk, and Pidge, just due to their sheer unwillingness to let him isolate himself. He still occasionally runs into Shiro both at Pidge’s house and at the library. Though lately, everyone’s anxiety seems to have elevated as finals have come up on them quick, and it’s time to crack down on studying for exams and preparing for projects.

 

So, Keith makes the library his new home. Or, at least, he does during his free period. Lots of students like to stay in their study hall rooms, and in Keith’s particular study hall classroom, socializing is allowed, which is not ideal for studying. So Keith gets a pass to go to the library, where he can sit at a large table and spread out his books and lose himself in studying for 50 minutes.

 

He’s somewhat used to Shiro’s presence by now. He’s as used to it as he can be, given that there’s still something about Shiro that messes with Keith’s head and occasionally makes his stomach flip. However, he can be in the same room as him and not feel invaded, which is a huge improvement from a couple months ago.

 

The anxiety of finals isn’t as severe with Keith as it is with most students. Of course, there’s something about a big test that rattles his nerves a bit, but Keith studies a lot, and always does his homework, and has been, in a sense, preparing for this moment the entire school year. He’s sitting at a table in the library, breezing through his college algebra study guide for his next test, and he feels fine. He has two more algebra tests before the final, and he’s not even breaking a sweat.

 

He feels a presence come up behind him and knows it must be Shiro. Now, Keith has become more used to Shiro just showing up, but that doesn’t mean he _wants_ him to, especially when he’s doing homework. But that doesn't stop Shiro.

 

“Ah, college level algebra. That’s impressive.” Shiro pulls out the chair next to him and takes a seat. “Most freshmen take pre-algebra.”

 

“Yeah, I took that last year at my old school.” That year, Keith ended up in two different schools, but still managed to pass pre-algebra so he could get into advanced math as a freshman. “I’m hoping by the time I graduate, I’ll have algebra, geometry, calc, and trig under my belt.” It’s an ambitious schedule, but Keith has an ambitious school choice. It’s the best route to get him into the Galaxy Garrison Pilot and Aerospace Academy.

 

“Nice. You know, I did the same thing. I’m in calculus right now, and… Boy,  it’s rough. But it’ll be worth it if it gets me into the school I want.”

 

Keith doesn’t necessarily want to have a conversation right now, but he’s intrigued by Shiro taking the same school load as him. “Are… Are there ever times where you think it’s too hard? Or overwhelming.”

 

“Of course,” Shiro says. “Especially since I enjoy baseball and don’t want to give that up, and soon I want to get a part time job just to get a little spending money, so _that_ won’t help the time management issue but… I think it’s all worth it. It’s pretty rewarding to have a good baseball season _and_ good grades on my report card. It makes me feel accomplished.”

 

Keith nod and Shiro continues, “Just remember why you’re doing it. Whether it’s a school you want to get into, or a job you want, or whatever. Just keep it in mind and then in a few years, you’ll thank yourself for all the hard work.”

 

“Yeah… I get that,” Keith says, and he really does. He’s working hard to get into a good school. He’s working hard to make something of himself and prove people wrong. He’s working hard to to perhaps escape his past. When it’s all said and done, Keith thinks he’ll have something to show that he can be proud of.

 

“Oh, hey,” Shiro says, glancing at the practice problem Keith’s working on. “You’re doing this problem wrong.”

 

Keith gives him an unbelieving look, and Shiro says, “Yeah, see, you’re supposed to switch these around… and then you do this…” Shiro shows him the right way to do the problem, and it completely changes Keith’s final answer, and he looks at all of his other problems that he apparently did the wrong way and his heart sinks. “Oh,” he says, setting to work erasing what he has written and redoing the problem with the steps that Shiro explained, Shiro helping him along the way.

 

“Hey, um… Do you need a tutor or anything? Or need some help with your homework?” Shiro offers, a hand rubbing behind his neck, ready for rejection.

 

And reject him, Keith will. Because there Shiro goes trying to _help_ him again, and he really, _really_ needs to stop doing that.

 

“Uh, no thanks. It’s fine, really. It was just a mix up, I got it from here.”

 

“Right, yeah, for sure! I, um. Have to get back to what I was doing anyway. I’ll see you later!”

 

Shiro hastily goes back to returning books to their shelves, and Keith gets back to doing his homework. It really was just a mix up. He’ll be fine. He’ll take the exam and everything will be great.

 

And then a week later when Keith gets his test back and his stomach _plummets_. His C is still a passing grade, but close enough to a D to make him nauseous, and he goes that very same day back to the library during his study hall and just hands Shiro his test.

 

Shiro frowns at it, corners of his mouth pulling down and brows knitting, and Keith has a wild thought that he never wants to see that look on Shiro’s face again.

 

“Oh, no… This isn’t great”

 

Keith huffs, feeling more frazzled by the minute. “Yeah, no shit!”

 

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Shiro soothes. “Let’s relax. It’s just one test, right? I’m assuming everything else you’ve done this school year has been good.”

 

“I… Yeah, but--”

 

“ _But_. It’s not pretty. But remember, your overall grade is still good, and you can absolutely turn this around before the final. How many more assignments before the final?”

 

“Another test, and homework.”

 

“Alright,” Shiro says, seriously. “Homework just needs to be completed to get the grade, so you’re good there. As for the test, you need to really look at what you did wrong on _this_ test, do some more practice problems, and it’ll help you on your next test. Because it’s math, everything builds off of each other.”

 

Keith nods hard, trying to calm down. Shiro’s right. This is fixable.

 

“Just relax,” Shiro smiles at him, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder that he doesn’t flinch away from. “Keith, you’re smart and you’re tough. You can absolutely fix this.”

 

Keith keeps nodding, taking deep breaths. “Yes… I can fix this, I can… I… need your help.”

 

“Okay, that’s fine. Do you want to start right now?”

 

Keith nods again, sitting in the nearest chair and pulling out his algebra book.

 

They bust out the test and Shiro lays out everything Keith’s done wrong. They then go into the textbook to find practice problems for him to work on, and then they move on to the material for the next test and they make sure Keith can do those problems correctly, now that he’s fixed what he was doing from the chapter before.

 

Shiro stays calm and focused the whole time. His soothing voice, and the way he walks Keith through the problems, in turn makes Keith calm down quite a bit, and by the time study hall is over, Keith has a renewed confidence and a huge debt to pay to Shiro.

 

“Thank you so much… I owe you one,” Keith says, smiling at Shiro for probably the first time.

 

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” Shiro smiles back. There’s that flip in Keith’s stomach again. “Just get a good grade on your test and we’ll call it even!”

 

Keith laughs, “Fair enough.”

 

The next week, Keith gets an A on his next test. He goes to the library to show Shiro and thank him again. Shiro gives him his number in case he needs help again.

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro and Keith do not end up texting each other about homework, or if they do, it’s not very often. They text each other about _space_ , of all things. Shiro also watches a lot of space videos and documentaries, and he’s always sharing them with Keith, and recommending books, and letting Keith borrow his Astronomy magazine. And Keith can’t help but indulge. The whole phone thing is ruining him, actually. It’s making him accessible to socializing 24/7, which he’s not the biggest fan of, but Keith can’t help himself when Shiro is texting him cool facts about space and space travel. They even want to go to the same _school_ … It’s crazy.

Keith could do without this dumbass groupchat Pidge put him in. He didn’t even know they were a thing until he received a message from Pidge that said, “new gc :D” in a conversation with her and two other numbers he didn’t recognize.

 

**Me:**

What’s gc???

 

**Unknown Number** :

omg… he’s hopeless

 

**Unknown number:**

It means groupchat! Welcome to the group, keith :D

 

He, begrudgingly sends back, “Okay so this is a group conversation with pidge and im assuming lance and hunk. So who’s who”

 

**Unknown Number:**

well im your super awesome handsome best friend :)

 

**Me:**

So Hunk?

 

**Pidge:**

LMAO

 

**Lance Sucks:**

I am INCREDIBLY offended right now. Im going back to the old gc :(

 

**Hunk:**

xD Aw buddy, he didn’t mean it

 

He doesn’t really participate in the conversation too often, but he does keep up with what they’re saying and occasionally offers his two cents.

 

He mostly just texts Shiro. They talk about struggling with their workloads for school, about their school choice, about how Keith wants to be involved with flying or space _somehow_ , maybe an astronaut or just a pilot, and about how Shiro definitely wants to fly, too. Maybe to space, but he still has a bit of time to decide.

 

Also, they’re not just texting now. Shiro is coming up to Keith in the hallway to show him specific articles in his magazine, or to complain about school, or sometimes they even just _talk_. Shiro will tell him about baseball, or about something that happened at home, or talk about how good his dinner was the night before. Keith tells Shiro about Liv, and about how she can’t cook but knows all of the best takeout in the area, and about the ridiculous reality shows she watches that Keith accidentally got sucked into.

 

Keith knows he’s breaking his own rule. He’s _destroying_ it. He’s getting too attached. He doesn’t fight going to more movie nights, he willingly talks to his little group of people he's calling _friends_ , and even to Matt sometimes. He fucking went to one of Shiro’s baseball games, of all places! Keith has _never_ in his life cared about a sport, but it’s an important game, the whole school is talking about it, and Matt offered to drive the gang, and if Shiro looks good in baseball pants on the pitcher’s mound, then that’s nothing to complain about.

 

_Whoa, hold up there, Keith. You’re just here to support Shiro, not ogle him_.

 

The more time Keith spends around Shiro, the more he’s starting to sort and understand his feelings. Though it pains him to admit he might _like_ Shiro. Like, really like him. But of course it’s just a dumb crush, and Keith will get over it, and it means nothing. Nothing will come of it, and it’s fine.

 

And that seems to be the worst thing in Keith’s life right now? It’s… really weird for him. He’s used to walking on eggshells and not having friends. He’s used to the worst thing in his life being far, _far_ worse than just a dumb unrequited crush and having a heavy workload for finals.

 

The be is starting to feel like his. He’s a little scared of how good things are, because if he knows his luck, this won’t last. He’s waiting for the shoe to drop.


	6. VI.

It’s the first Saturday of summer break when it falls.

 

Keith and Liv are having a lazy Saturday, still in their pajamas at noon and trying to decide if Liv can make French toast and bacon.

 

“I mean, I can make grilled cheese!” She says in her defense.

 

Keith laughs at her, and says, “ _Barely_. It’s always so crispy.”

 

Liv pouts, “I thought you liked it crispy.”

 

“I mean, it’s not bad. But that doesn’t mean you can make French toast. And you _definitely_ can’t make bacon.”

 

“Oh ye of little faith,” she says, pulling out the rest of their bread and going to the fridge to rummage for eggs and milk. There’s a knock on the door and she asks him to go answer it.

 

He opens the door and… and he thinks he’s hallucinating. It almost looks like he’s looking in a _mirror_ , and… no. No, no, _no,_ that means… That can only mean…

 

The woman in front of him looks just as shocked as he feels. Then a smile breaks across her face and she starts _crying_ …

 

“Oh, my baby, you look so grown up…”

 

Keith is at a _complete_ loss for words. He… He has no idea how to react or how to respond. How did she even find him? Is she allowed to be here? What the _hell_ is going on?

 

For the first time in ten years, he’s face to face with his mother and he doesn’t know what to do.

 

She pulls him in for a hug and she’s wearing the same perfume as Liv and….

 

No, no, no, no, this can’t be happening this isn’t right.

 

“Oh, baby, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry, but I’m better now, I promise. Me and Dad both, we’re better now.”

 

“You need to _leave_ ,” he hears Liv from behind him, coming to pry him from his mother’s grip. There’s a venom in her voice he’s never heard, that he didn’t think she was capable of, and it scares him.

 

“Oh, who the _fuck_ do you think you are!” His mother yells. “You’ve always wanted anything I had, so you just go and take my _damn_ kid, like I wouldn’t find out!”

 

“Fuck you! I didn’t take him, I gave him a roof over his head and looked after him better than you ever did! It’s amazing he survived with you as long he did. I know all the shit you got into, and I know who you are. I grew up with you, and I don’t believe a word coming out of your mouth. ‘Better’ my ass!”

 

“How dare you, and how dare you keep me from my son!”

 

“I said leave. If you want to see him, you can get a court order. How do you even know where I live?!”

 

“I’ll do you one better, bitch,” his mother spits out. “I’m getting a court order for custody. That boy is _mine_ , and I’m going to take him back.”

 

His mother turns away and stomps to a pick up truck where a man, presumably his father, is waiting in the driver’s seat.

 

“She can’t do that… She can’t get custody of you. There’s no court that will allow it, she can’t even afford a lawyer,” she says to Keith, but not entirely, more so mumbling to herself.

 

“God, _damn it!_ ” she shrieks, storming to the kitchen. She rummages in a junk drawer before she finds a small notebook with “ADDRESSES” written on it in black marker.

 

She picks up her phone and begins calling someone. Keith stays in the doorway of the kitchen, still in shock to what the hell just happened.

 

“Hi, Unlce Bobby? Hey, this is Liv. Olivia… Cole’s daughter, I… No, nope that’s Caroline. Hey that’s why I called actually, have you talked to her lately?... No?... Well, I’m just wondering because _someone_ told her where I live… Well she just showed up here out of the blue, spouting off some bullshit and scared me and Keith half to death… Keith, her son. Well, he’s been living with me… I-- yeah, uh huh… Look, I can’t really chat right now, but if  you hear anything about how she found me, give me a call alright? Bye.”

 

She hangs up, flips through her notebook and makes another phone call, and another, and another. The conversations goes much the same.

 

“Hey is this cousin Ted? It’s Liv.”

 

“Aunt Millie? It’s Liv.”

 

“Uncle Joe? It’s Liv. Hey, would you happen to know how Caroline got my address?”

 

Everyone denies knowing anything and Liv hangs up after her fourth call, frustrated and defeated. “Absolutely ridiculous, those bastards are the only ones who know where I live.”

 

Those people she called… Aunt, uncles, cousin… _family_ … Keith has more family? More people that never cared about him enough to check on him, or take him out of foster care sooner? Where were all of them, all of those years he spent alone thinking he had no one?

 

Keith’s processing a lot right now, not really sure how to feel, but he knows he’s very angry about this. He’s very angry that apparently he's had a whole family all along that apparently never gave a shit about him and that are all as bad as his parents.

 

“Are there more?” he says to Liv, voice low and gravelly.

 

Liv looked up at him, raising her eyebrows, her face of irritation softening as she sees Keith. He must still look traumatized. “What, honey?”

 

“Family members,” he says, back to his short, clipped responses. “People I share blood with. Are there more?”

 

She looks surprised at his question. “I-- Well, yes.”

 

His nose and eyes start to sting, his face heats up, and he can feel tears well in his eyes. “So there are more people who never bothered, who never cared…”

 

“Keith--” She starts, but he cuts her off.

 

“No, save it. I don’t care. No one’s ever given a shit. There were nights where I was cold, and hurt, and hungry, and other kids were being taken by their family members. And I was being hurt. I thought I just didn’t have any. Turns out I did, and all of you are just as shitty as my parents.”

 

There’s a whirlwind of emotions surging through him and he can’t control what’s coming out of his mouth, but it feels _good_ to get it out. It feels good to throw his words in Liv’s face and watch her expression turn to one of hurt.

 

He storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him with Liv calling out after him. He ignores her, trying to put as much space between them as possible.

 

He’s walking down the street and… and… He doesn’t want to be alone right now. He wants to be away from Liv, he wants to get out of that house, but he doesn’t want to feel alone. He needs a friend and a distraction. He pulls out his phone and instead of contacting anyone from the gang, he finds himself going into his conversation with Shiro and typing out a message.

 

“Hey can u hang out like right now”

 

* * *

 

 

Shiro finds him wandering around the neighborhood He was unable to stand still in one spot and just wait, but Shiro found him. There’s a cigarette dangling from his lips, one that he’d found a while ago that he was saving, and damn if this wasn’t a good time to use it. All his regrets were playing around in his head, replaying how he let down all of his walls and got too comfortable, and it all was crashing down around him like he knew it would. He really shouldn’t be seeking out anyone’s company right now, especially not Shiro’s, but he can’t relax and there’s something about Shiro that makes him feel calm and okay.

 

Keith climbs into the passenger seat, then flicks his ashes out of the cracked window.

 

“Guess I really will need a new air freshener now,” Shiro says, breaking the ice, trying to make a joke. Keith’s not in the mood the laugh right now, though.

 

“Sorry. I’d throw it out but it’s my only one.”

 

“Hey, no, don’t worry about it. I was just messing around.” Shiro looks so sad, and Keith hates it. Keith himself must look miserable, but Shiro… Shiro has no reason being upset. Keith hopes his mood isn’t rubbing off on him.

 

Inside of Shiro’s house is very bright and airy with lots of windows in the living room and dining room. An elderly man is sitting in a recliner watching baseball, while an elderly woman is in the kitchen cooking. Shiro introduces them as his grandparents.

 

They head upstairs, where Shiro invites Keith to sit on his bed while he takes the computer chair. Shiro turns on his computer, a desktop with a nice sized monitor, and he turns opens up Netflix and turns on the Cosmos documentary. Hopefully aweing at the marvels of space will help Keith keep his mind off of the mess the day has been and the inevitable mess about to pile up on his life.

 

Keith feels a little awkward on Shiro’s bed. It’s _Shiro_ ’ _s_ , and he feels like Shiro should be the one on the bed, and he should be the one in the chair.

 

“Hey, you know, you can sit on the bed. I’ll take the chair.”

 

But Shiro protests, “No, no, it’s fine. Besides, you’re a guest. I want you to be comfortable.

 

Keith, feeling bold yet unable to make eye contact, shrugs and says to Shiro, “We can both sit on the bed?”

 

Keith is definitely blushing, and Shiro might be, too, as Shiro gets up and sits next to Keith on the bed. It’s… really nice, to be so close to Shiro. It's really comfortable and relaxing. He wants to pay attention to the documentary, he really does, but his mind keeps wandering back to everything about his family, and he starts feeling emotional.

 

“My mom came by the house today.” It falls out of his mouth, unable to stop it, and drops it right in Shiro’s lap.

 

“Oh… How did it go?”

 

Keith thinks for a moment. How is he supposed to describe that mess? “I-- I don’t know. Weird? I haven’t seen her in… Years. Ten years. She said she’s better now…” He trails off thinking about it. Then, he feels Shiro’s hand rubbing his back. Keith continues.

 

“And then my aunt got in a fight with her… She told her to leave. And then she made some phone calls to other people who are my family, and…” He feels his eyes wet again. “It’s been a really weird day.”

 

Shiro continues rubbing his back, “Hey, it’s okay to cry.” Then the dam breaks loose and Keith begins to sob. Shiro pulls him in and holds onto him while Keith cries, and Shiro tells him everything is going to be okay.

 

“I don’t know if it is,” Keith says between sobs. “My mom said she wants to take me back and I don’t think I want that, and I got in a fight with Liv because I never knew I had more family, and I said some really mean shit to her, and this day has just been so shitty and _not okay_.”

 

“You had a lot going on today,” Shiro soothes. “It’s okay to be mad and upset. Liv probably had a good reason for not telling you about other people in your family, but I know the whole thing is really touchy for you. But, look, I know it’s scary right now, but you have to believe things will work out and be okay. If you’re mom is bad, then you probably won’t go back in her care. You’re gonna be okay, Keith, no matter what happens.”

 

Keith takes deep breaths to calm his sobs and nods. Shiro’s right. Life has thrown Keith some awful shit before, and he still came out okay. This isn’t going to be any different. Keith is strong and Shiro’s right. No matter what, he’s going to be okay.

 

* * *

 

 

Together they eat some lunch that Shiro’s grandmother made. They watch a couple more episodes of Cosmos and then Shiro gives him a ride home. He reminds Keith again as he gets out of the Jeep that things are going to be okay, and tells him not to hesitate to call him if he needs anything.

 

Keith walks in the front door and slinks into the kitchen to find Liv sitting at the table with a glass of wine. She smiles sadly at him. “Hey, kiddo. Glad you came back.”

 

Keith pulls out a chair and sits at the table with her.

 

“Keith… I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you about other people in our family. I just… I didn’t think about what it meant to you.” She looks so upset, Keith feels awful for lashing out at her.

 

“No, I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you. It’s not your fault.” He shrugs and look down at the table.

 

“Keith, our family… isn’t the greatest. It’s kind of fucked up” She gives a dry laugh.

 

“Well, if my mom is anything like anyone else, I get it.”

 

“Well, your mother is kind of number one of the whacked out list, but the rest aren’t far behind her. And I’m far from perfect, but, I got my shit together. I had to, for you.” She sighs, and looks Keith in the eyes and says, “Honey, I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you sooner. I truly am. But I hadn’t seen your mother in years before you were born. I left and I never looked back, only kept a couple of contacts in case of emergencies. But none of them bothered to tell me you were born. Your mom didn’t even tell most of the family, because by that point a lot of them were done with her shit. By the time I knew about you, you were already in the system. I got myself a stable job and a house, instead of working part time and living in tiny apartments with too many roommates and always moving. I got myself together, and then I tracked you down. And when I finally found, I went to a judge and filled out the paperwork and I met with your social worker a lot, and now here we are.” She gives another sad smile as she reaches across the table and takes his hand.

 

He squeezes it and says, “Well I’m glad you found me. It took me a long time to realize it, but I think I am. And I don’t wanna go back with her and Dad.” By the time he finishes his sentence, the tears are back and he’s crying again. Liv gets up and reaches over to hug him, holding him tight and letting him break down for the third time that day.

 

“Don’t worry I won’t let that happen.”

 

And Keith believes it. He believes with every fiber of his being that he’ll get to stay here. He doesn’t know why, but he just can’t let himself believe he’s going to get the short end of the stick this time.

 

He believes it, even after his mother and father take Liv to court for custody (which shocked Liv, because there’s no way they could afford a lawyer).

 

He believes it as he sits in a courtroom and watches his mother testify that she’s been clean and sober for over a year, and his father is, too, and that he has a job, and they can finally take care of their son after having to give him up ten years ago. It makes his stomach turn.

 

He believes it as Liv takes the stand and testifies the kind of woman his mother has always been, and the kind of trouble his father is. He still believes that the court would let him stay with his aunt. He believes it until the judge bangs the gavel and grants full custody of Keith Kogane to his biological parents. He’ll have the night to gather his things, and then his parents can pick him up in the morning.

 

Keith’s stomach drops. He cries on the drive home, and as he pulls his ratty overused suitcase out of the closet and stuffs his clothes and some books into it. He really thought this time would be different and he’d get to stay somewhere for a while. He kicked himself for thinking that. How dumb was he to break his own rules? He got comfortable, he made friends, he let people in. Only to have to leave them. Like always.

 

He doesn’t want to be reminded of his mistakes, but Liv invites all of his friends over for a going away dinner. He hugs everyone sadly at the end of the night. He and Shiro might hug the longest. In the morning, after a sleepless night, Liv gives him one more tearful hug and says that she’ll do what she can to get him back. She’ll keep paying the cellphone bill, just call her if he needs anything. If they try anything she’ll come get him. He nods as his parents walk up to the door and knock. And after the sisters share a few choice words, Keith is ushered into a beat-up pickup truck, squished between his parents in an awkward three hour drive further south and closer to the desert than Keith’s been in a long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the legal inaccuracies. im p sure at 17 keith can decide where he wants to live, or at least the court could take into consideration his wishes, but... shhh... we do it for the angst.


	7. VII.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for child abuse this chapter; neglect, physical assault, and brief choking. Proceed with caution. Also mentions of alcoholism and drug abuse.

Keith’s time with his parents is awful. They’re just as neglectful as when he was a small child, except it’s slightly more helpful that he can cook for himself now. That is, when there’s food. He considers asking Aunt Liv for money but doesn’t want his parents to find it and steal it.

 

The house is small an dirty, a one bedroom with a converted attic for his room. Or, so they said they converted the attic into a bedroom, but really there’s just an old spring mattress on the floor and a floor lamp to the side of it. There are still some boxes, though somewhat neatly piled around. But there’s no air vent or anything for heating or cooling, and the June air is stiflingly hot and makes the room unlivable. He can only be in there at night with the window open. He asked them if they could get a window fan for the room, to which his mother enthusiastically replied of course, he could have whatever he needed. Only, he never got it.

 

It seemed that now that they had him, they didn’t know what to do with him. It’s reminiscent of the way Liv was when he first moved in, but when his mother does it, he gets weird flashbacks to his childhood where even then she didn’t know what to do with him. He has no desire to get close with his mother. The whole situation makes him miss his aunt. It makes him miss everyone.

 

His phone, once a burden, now becomes his only solace. He texts Shiro all the time about anything and everything. He even talks to the gang more and more in the group chat. Anything to keep his mind off of his parents. Between his mom’s weird fish out of water attitude, or his dad’s passive aggressive (though, more often aggressive) disdain for him, he’ll take any reason he can to talk to his friends instead of dealing with his parents.

 

The phone pisses his dad off. Keith just  thinks his dad is always pissed off and finds dumb reasons to let it out. At this point in time, it’s Keith’s phone.

 

“On that damn phone all the time. Ungrateful,” He grouses when he comes home from work in the evening and heads to the kitchen for a beer ( _So he’s not sober,_ Keith notes). Keith is in the kitchen answering a text while he waits for the sink to fill up so he can do dishes.

 

“We’re putting a roof over your head, and you can’t be bothered to talk to us. Too busy with your damn nose in your phone. I oughta snatch it off of you. I’m gonna smash that thing one of these days.” His dad seemed to ramble on, ridiculously annoyed about something so trivial.

 

Keith knew better to respond, but he did anyway. “You’re not paying for it, so you can’t do anything with it.”

 

To which his dad replies by grabbing Keith by his hair and tilting his face toward him. He growls, “If you get an attitude like that with me again, I’ll knock your teeth out.”

 

His mom sits at the table, taking a drag from a cigarette, and says nothing.

 

Later on, laying on his mattress and sweating away in his boxers, praying for a breeze to push some air into the attic, he texts Shiro late into the night.

 

**Me:**

He got in my face today

 

**Shiro:**

What?? Why?

 

**Me:**

Idk, my phone or some shit. He’s gonna snap on me one of these days over something dumb

 

**Shiro:**

:( I don’t like you being there.

 

**Me:**

Lol how do you think I feel? Oh well. Court order.

 

**Shiro:**

:( let me come pick you up tomorrow? We can just find somewhere and hang out.

 

**Me:**

:) that’s sweet of you, and I appreciate the thought. But it’s not a good idea right now.

 

**Shiro:**

When can I see you again?

 

Keith sighed, trying not to cry. God he missed Shiro, he missed _all_ of them so much it hurt.

 

**Me:**

Idk… not sure when it will be a good time.

 

**Shiro:**

Before summer’s over?

 

**Me:**

Hopefully.

 

**Shiro:**

I’m getting tired. I hope you’re okay.. I really don’t want to fall asleep on you.

 

**Me:**

Don’t stay up on my account, you need your sleep. I’ll be okay Shiro. Remember? You said so :p

 

**Shiro:**

:( when I said that I really thought things were going to play out differently.

 

**Me:**

I know. But you were right anyway. I’ve been through worse, and I came out alright. Get some sleep. I’ll talk to you in the morning.

 

**Shiro:**

Goodnight Keith. I miss you. Don’t forget I’ll come get you if you need

 

**Me:**

Don’t worry when I need my knight in shining I’ll call you lol. gn

 

Keith locks his phone and shoves it under his pillow.

 

That night, he falls asleep with a heavy heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith lives with his parents most of the summer. It’s mostly the same shit every day. His mom doesn’t bother with him, or if she does, only for short periods of time. His dad continues to be mad at everything he does. He’s expected to clean the house and keep it clean. Occasionally, his dad will smack him in the head for something dumb, like forgetting to do something or doing it wrong. He still feels like a bomb that’s about to explode, but he hasn’t yet. Mostly, they drink all day and leave him alone. It’s obvious they still drink, but he thinks they still do other stuff, too. They’ll leave for hours at a time and come back and either pass out or stay up all night carrying on. But that’s territory he refuses to get into with them, even though he knows if he’s right, it’s a ticket out.

 

Luckily, or maybe a bit unluckily, his ticket out comes on a hot day in early August. It just doesn’t come in the way that he would prefer.

 

His father comes home bitching, as he always does.

 

“Why in the hell don’t you ever make dinner?” He says, coming home to see Caroline and Keith on the couch. Keith isn’t sure which of them he’s talking to, though he sees his mother shrink. Keith really can’t take this today. The house is sweltering, the window AC units barely doing anything. He’s sweating and angry and hungry, and all his dad ever does is _complain_ about _stupid shit_.

 

“Why in the hell don’t you ever buy us food?” Keith quips.

 

“What the fuck did you say to me?” A fire burns in his father’s eyes. Keith wonders if he should have just kept his mouth shut, but he’s tired of just taking this shit.

 

He doesn’t answer his dad right away, which apparently won't be tolerated today. His father stomps closer to where Keith sits on the couch, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling him up. “Tell me, boy, what the fuck did you say to me? Answer me!”

 

Keith is shaken by his shirt, and he tries to push his dad off of him. “I said why the hell don’t you buy us food! You expect me to pull it out of my ass? You don’t give a fuck about me or her, all you do is bitch and find shit to be mad at me about. And all she does is sit on the couch and watch TV and drink. Yeah, so much for the clean and sober bullshit in court! I know drinking isn’t the only shit you’re doing. You barely even have a room for me, another lie. What the hell do you two _want_ with me! Neither of you give a shit about me. What am I even _doing_ here!” Keith lets it all out, raising his voice to a man twice his size and a fist the size of his head that’s currently wrapped up in his t-shirt.

 

His dad drags him over to the wall and slams him against it. He can feel the drywall crack behind his back. His father yells, “How dare you! You’re here because we _birthed_ you. You’re our damn kid. Your mother carried you in her belly, not Liv, and not any other bitch they made you live with the last however many years. You’re ours and you belong here, and that’s all the reason we need.” His father shoves him again, and then a hand is at his throat, and things are escalating a lot faster than Keith expected. But he did always know his dad would snap one day.

 

He can’t breathe, his heart is pounding in his ears, and his vision is graying. He hears pieces of words, like “Ungrateful” and “Little shit,” and he thinks he hears his mother yelling in the background eventually he falls to the ground, trying to take heaving breaths between hacking coughs. He’s shaking and he can’t think of what to do. He hears his mom crying, feels her hands on him as she helps him sit up.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, honey,” She’s crying and scared, and he’s trembling and it’s _not_ okay.

 

“No…” He groans, but he can’t even form a sentence, still trying to get his breath.

 

He feels so disconnected from everything going around him… His mom being pulled up and away from him, a hand in his hair and his father’s face floating above him telling him to go upstairs. Everything feels slow and disjointed and it doesn’t feel like he’s controlling his body as it moves.

 

He makes it out of his dad’s line of sight and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He doesn’t realize the number he’s dialed is Shiro’s until Keith hears his voice on the other end of the line, and Keith could cry because it’s the best sound he’s heard all summer.


	8. VIII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's the comfort to make up for all the hurt <3

Shiro called Liv and said something was wrong with Keith, who then called Keith’s social worker and the police, and before long they were all raising hell in Caroline’s living room. Apparently, Shiro couldn’t figure out what was wrong from Keith because he was still wheezing and crying and then the line went dead. That must have been when Keith’s father grabbed his phone and finally smashed it. Keith doesn’t really remember much after he picked up his phone. It comes to him in pieces; his dad smashing his phone, the police busting through the door, his mother crying and refusing to let him go, Liv holding him while he sobbed and wheezed on her shoulder. At some point they went to the ER where his neck was examined. It’s badly bruised, but no permanent damage. But the clearest thing in his memory is the sight of his father closing in on him, the fear as he's slammed against the wall, the feeling of losing control as a hand closes around his neck. He’d have nightmares about it for the rest of his life. Keith would lose all of his memories, and still dream of that man and the fear he felt.

 

But he’s trying to put all of that behind him. Right now, he’s on his way to Pidge’s with Liv driving him.

 

“You know it’s only a ten-minute walk, and I’m not a fragile flower you need to hover over.”

 

Aunt Liv rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, Keith, it’s 97 degrees. Please, let me just make sure you don’t get heat stroke, alright?”

 

Keith sighs, but he supposes she has a point. But he has to draw the line when she shuts off the car and goes to step out.   


“Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?”  


“What? Maybe I want to say hello to Sam and Colleen? Not everything’s about you, kid.”

 

“Okay there’s something weird going on. You don’t ever just stop and say hello to Sam and Colleen. Why do you want to come in?”

 

“Hush! I’m trying to have adult friends, maybe I’m tired of Keeping Up with the Kardashians reruns!” She exclaims, hurrying out of the car and up the Holt’s front porch steps.

 

“I know _that’s_ a lie," Keith mutters as he, too, gets out of the car.

 

When they open the door, they’re in for a surprise.

 

No, for real, it’s truly a surprise. A surprise party to welcome Keith back home. Everyone jumps and yells “Surprise!”, blowing party horns and throwing confetti. Even the Holt’s dog is barking his head off at the commotion.

 

Next, he’s met with an armful of Pidge squeezing him to death, followed by Lance jumping in on the action, and Hunk just enveloping them all in a huge bear hug. He’s never felt so fucking happy in his _life_ , than he feels right now, being crushed by so much love and affection by these people who mean so much to him. He doesn’t even mind how long the hug goes on, but when they finally separate, he laughs and says, “Hope you enjoyed that, because it’s the only hug you’re ever gonna get from me.”

 

“Lies!” Pidge cries, as she jumps back into hugging him again, the rest of the gang following. At some point they lose their balance and all fall over on the carpet, laughing.

 

The party is amazing. There’s pizza from Mineo’s, tons of junk, a cake that gets smashed in his face, and more laughing than he’s ever done in his life. They share stories about how their summers went. Lance went to visit his family in Cuba, Hunk’s been practicing cooking and baking with his family and swears he could make a pizza crust just as good as Mineo’s. Pidge dove head first into the world of online gaming, and no one has seen much of her since. Matt decided to join the soccer team with Shiro, so they’ve been conditioning and practicing all summer. Keith didn’t miss much, but it feels like he missed a lifetime.

 

The sun sets and the party ends. Keith says his goodbyes to everyone, Liv heads to the car, and Shiro and Keith linger on the porch.   


“I really missed you a lot,” Shiro say, eyes down and wringing his hands.

 

Keith blushes. “I missed you, too.”

 

“Um. I was wondering if you wanted to go on a drive with me?”

 

Keith smiles, eager to spend some time alone with Shiro. “Yeah, of course! Let me just tell Aunt Liv.”

 

With her blessing, he hops into Shiro’s Jeep. He notices a new addition to the rearview mirror.

 

“This little thing is cute,” he says, running his finger along the softness of the little black lion with red wings now hanging from the mirror.

 

“Yeah! I saw her in a gas station and fell in love.”

 

“No more retro air freshener?” Keith teases.

 

“Nope. We’re entering the new age, now,” Shiro says, pointing to the new fresheners clipped into his air vents.

 

“Wow, truly the end of an era. Siri, play Taps,” Keith deadpans.

 

Shiro laughs and playfully shoves him.

 

Eventually they find themselves on a back road leading them seemingly out to the middle of nowhere.

 

“I’ve seen enough horror movies to know you’re about to take me somewhere secluded and kill me, right?”

 

Shiro gasps, “I would never! I’m taking you somewhere secluded to woo you.”

 

Shiro takes a path that leads them through a field and to the top of a hill. He shuts the Jeep off, grabs a blanket from the back seat, and nods for Keith to follow him out of the Jeep. He lays the blanket out, takes a seat and pats the spot next to him for Keith to join him.

 

“Did you bring me out here for a midnight picnic?” Keith chuckles as he takes his spot.

 

“No, I brought you out here to stargaze,” Shiro says beaming. “Look, you can see Mars right now!”

 

They spent the next few hours like that, listening to the bugs chirp around them and pointing out different constellations and planets they could recognize. Shiro filled him in on all of the cool stuff from this summer’s issues of Astronomy magazine, and Keith just listened on, completely content to listen to Shiro enthuse about his favorite thing all night long.

 

But eventually Shiro runs out of things to say and turns his head to look at Keith. The moon is high and bright, and the light makes Shiro look ethereal.

 

Shiro turns on his side to face Keith. He smiles and says, “I’m really glad you’re home and you’re okay.”

 

_Home_ … The word sits warm and heavy in Keith’s chest. He smiles back at Shiro and says, “You said I would be. You were right.”

 

A flash of sadness came across Shiro’s eyes. Keith, with a newfound confidence brought on by the overwhelming happiness and content with where he is right now, reaches out to rest his hand on Shiro’s cheek, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

 

“Don’t be sad, Shiro. You have no idea how much you helped me. Through all of it. From the moment you said things were going to be okay, I felt better. You were right, I had to just believe it. And it helped. And it helped to be able to talk to you through all of it. You have no idea how much you did for me… You, and even the others, but especially you kept me sane through all of it.”

 

Shiro brings up his hand to rest on top of Keith’s and holds it lightly. “When you called… I… I was terrified.” Shiro’s voice starts shaking. “I didn’t know what was going on, but I knew it was bad. I couldn’t believe what you went through. I still can't.”

 

Keith frowns. It was selfish of him to call Shiro and worry him like that. He really should have just called Liv first, but he didn’t even realize what he was doing until it was done.

 

Before he knew it, he was surrounded by Shiro, strong arms enveloping him and pulling him in close.

 

“Sorry,” Shiro mumbles from where he’s tucked his head in Keith’s neck, lightly so not enough to aggravate his bruise, but close enough that his breath tickles. “I didn’t get a chance to hug you yet.”

 

Keith smiles and holds onto to Shiro just as tight. “It’s okay.”

 

Shiro pulls back and looks into Keith’s eyes. “Keith, I… I have something to tell you. That day that you called me, and I had no idea what was going on or if you were okay, I was so scared I would have to live without you. And I don’t think I can…” Shiro pauses, taking a breath. Keith’s hands are around Shiro’s back, one of his thumbs rubbing soothingly. “Keith, I like you a lot. And I just want you to know that. I don’t want to live life without you. I don’t want to do anything without you, really,” Shiro chuckles. “Sorry, I’m really nervous, but I just want you to know. You mean so much to me. You’re so beautiful, and strong, and amazing. You’ve been through so much, but you keep fighting. And you’re so smart, and funny, and I just. You’re amazing Keith. Really.”

 

Keith listened to Shiro ramble, his heart swelling with each proclamation. He had no idea Shiro felt the same, fully prepared to live out an unrequited crush, yet here Shiro was bearing his soul to him by moonlight. Keith can’t help but plant his lips on top of Shiro’s

 

Shiro stops midsentence. Keith feels him freeze, but Keith just continues to rest his lips on Shiro’s, going no further but not pulling back. A moment later Shiro relaxes and moves his hand to cradle the back of Keith’s head.

 

They lay like that for a long time, kissing slowly and softly with the moon as their only witness. They would have been content to lay like that all night, but they get one bug bite too many and move to the Jeep, where they only continue to kiss more. They hold hands on the drive back, Keith sitting sideways in his seat, so he can face Shiro. Shiro takes his hand and kisses it with his kiss swollen lips. Keith fights so hard not to say _I love you, I love you, I love you_.

 

Keith doesn’t want to say goodbye to him when Shiro drops him off, but he steals one last long kiss before he goes inside. By the time he gets in bed that night he already has a goodnight text from Shiro that’s full of stupid heart emojis.

 

That night Keith falls asleep with a heart that’s so heavy because it’s so _full._


	9. Epilogue

Keith decides he does not like suits. They’re too heavy and have too many layers. But he can’t deny he looks pretty nice all dressed up. And Shiro looks pretty _amazing_ , in a suit tailored just for him, a white suite with a red tie. Keith is in a black suit with a red tie, so they coordinate just enough, in Keith’s opinion.

 

Keith’s boutonniere had long ago fallen off, but Shiro’s red rose stayed neatly pinned to his lapel, and Keith can smell its faint smell from where he's dancing against Shiro’s chest.

 

“I’m glad I was able to convince you to come,” Shiro mumbles from where his face was pressed into Keith’s hair.

 

“Hmm. Only because you look so good in a suit.”

 

He can feel the smirk against his head as Shiro says, “Back at you, kid.”

 

“Excuse me! Arm’s length apart! You heathens!” Ah, of course. They haven’t been able to escape the gang all night. Even for a _slow dance_ , they couldn’t get away.

 

“Lance. If you say that again, I’ll break _your_ arms,” Keith growls through gritted teeth.

 

Lance gasps, “You wouldn’t dare.”

 

Keith lifts his head from Shiro’s chest to eye Lance down. “Do you want to bet?”

 

Shiro sighs, “Okay, you two. Can we just have one day where we don’t do this?”

 

Hunk and Pidge choose that moment to come up to join the group as well. Pidge is now sporting a short pixie cut for their sophomore year, that she claims to absolutely _love_ because now she didn’t have to do her hair in the morning. To which Lance responded, he already thought she didn’t brush her hair in the morning.

 

“We came to rescue you,” Hunk says, putting his hands on Lance’s shoulders and steering him away.

 

“ _Thank you_ , Keith was threatening me! Can you believe it?”

 

“Actually, we came to rescue them from _you_ , but truthfully? I can believe that. Let’s leave the love birds alone!” Pidge said, shooing the boys away and winking to Keith and Shiro as they left. Keith owed her a thousand thank yous later if she can actually keep Lance occupied, at least for this block of slow songs.

 

Keith sighs and puts his head back on Shiro’s chest.

 

“So, how does it feel to be Mr. Homecoming King?” Keith looks up at Shiro and tries not to laugh at the ridiculous crown again. But he supposes Shiro pulls it off well, like he does with everything. Shiro could wear a potato sack and still look amazing.

 

“Hmm…” Shiro hums. “Not as good as it feels to be _your_ king,” Shiro laughs, placing a kiss to Keith’s head while Keith grimaces at the cheesiness.

 

“Gross.”

 

Keith gets that feeling in his chest again. That one that screams _warm_ , and _happy_ , and _loved_.

 

This is Keith’s homecoming, he realizes.

 

Sure, it’s the school’s homecoming, whatever that even means, he’s not sure. But really? This is _his_ homecoming. This is him realizing that this place, with these people, are his home. Liv’s house, Pidge’s kitchen table, Shiro’s jeep, this stupid school; it all makes up his home, somewhere he belongs, somewhere he's happy to be. These people, these people who got him through dark times and love him unconditionally, even when he tried to shut him out, are his home. He thinks that maybe after almost seventeen years, it’s about time he’s found a place he belongs.

 

He rests his head against Shiro’s chest again, tuning out the sound of the music and listening to to the beat of Shiro’s heart, instead. He closes his eyes and sways. It feels good to finally be home

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to find me on twitter at [@marmorasblade](http://twitter.com/marmorasblade), or on tumblr at [@fakegenjimain.](http://fakegenjimain.tumblr.com)
> 
> once again, big thanks to Clari for the beautiful art! Please support her and [retweet](https://twitter.com/brighteststarus/status/1034982311991934976) and/or [reblog :)](https://brighteststarus.tumblr.com/post/177537179625/i-worked-with-the-wonderful-fakegenjimain-for-the)


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